The Beginnings of a Happy Ending
by gnbrules
Summary: Detectives don't fall in love! Oh, wait, maybe they do. Lassie/OC with occasional appearances by the rest of the regular gang. Various moments and firsts of the new relationship. Sequel to Dating 101 and Dating 102.
1. Hot!

**The Beginnings of a Happy Ending**

**Summary: Detectives don't fall in love! Oh, wait, maybe they do. Lassie/OC with occasional appearances by the rest of the regular gang. Various moments and firsts of the new relationship. Sequel to Dating 101 and Dating 102. **

**A/N: Checking out Dating 101 and 102 is pretty advisable if you want to fully enjoy this one, but isn't strictly necessary because I treated every chapter almost as a oneshot (although they're all pretty much in chronological order). On another note, this one is rated T (slightly higher than previous installments) for an implied intimate relationship, and a slight sprinkling of innuendos, but it's still pretty safe (nothing graphic). Oh and there's a little bit of bad language but absolutely nothing more than what Lassie would say on the show. **

**Chapter One: Hot!**

Shawn spots the woman immediately; she's leaning against one of the walls of the police station, texting someone on her phone. Nor are his eyes the only ones that sneak covert glances at this mystery woman, who is – there's no other phrase for it – drop dead gorgeous. She has dark hair with just a slight wave to it, green eyes, and flawless skin. Her well-defined figure doesn't hurt, either.

Gus raises an eyebrow at Shawn, and the unasked question remains. _Who is she? _

Shawn, as always, is up for a challenge. "Bet I can get her number within ten minutes." he says under his breath, so that only Gus can hear him.

"Shawn, I know you're good. But you're not _that _good. I mean, look at her."

Shawn shakes his head. "Watch and learn."

Shawn runs fingers through his hair, takes a deep breath, and walks up to the woman.

"Hello."

The woman looks up, smiles. "Hi."

"Hey, have we met before? You look seriously familiar."

"I don't think so."

"Ah, okay. But you know what? We should change that. I mean, if you don't know me, and I don't know you, then we really shouldn't be talking. Stranger danger, you know."

"Of course."

Shawn holds out his hand. "Shawn Spencer."

The woman shakes it, an interesting smirk playing across her face. "Elizabeth Henson. It's nice to meet you."

"Elizabeth. That's awesome. Now that we're friends, can I ask you for a favor?"

"You're really cashing in early, you know that?" she says, smiling widely.

"I know, I know. I feel terrible about it, but it's a matter of pride. I mean, this could make me an absolute laughingstock around this department."

"Continue."

"My friend over there doesn't think someone like you would be friends with me." says Shawn, nodding towards Gus. "Thing is, he's really picky about what he considers 'friends'. He says real friends have each other's phone numbers, so that they can call each other to hang out. It's ridiculous, I know. But do you think that maybe we could exchange numbers? Just to be friends?"

Elizabeth smirks. "Sorry, Shawn. I don't think my boyfriend would be, uh, comfortable with that."

"That seems a little control-"

"Elizabeth!" calls an all-too-familiar voice. Elizabeth smiles sunshine bright and turns enthusiastically towards the man coming towards her. The man who has an uncharacteristically affectionate look on his face.

None other than Lassie himself.

_No way_, thinks Shawn frantically. _Not possible..._

Lassiter removes all doubt by catching Elizabeth's hand and pulling her into a kiss that is both deep and completely inappropriate to be having in the workplace. Then he seems to remember himself, and pulls away from his girlfriend to scowl in Shawn's direction. "Spencer hasn't been bothering you, has he?"

Elizabeth has to repress a laugh at Shawn's disbelieving, open-mouthed stare. "Not at all, Carlton. He was just introducing himself."

"Sure he was...anyway, ready for lunch?"

"Of course." she says, still smiling that unbelievable smile. For _Lassie_.

"See you later, Spencer. I've got a date." says Lassiter, smugly taking in Shawn's shock. "Have fun with Guster!"

"Bye, Shawn!" says Elizabeth, but she hardly spares him a glance.

Lassiter and Elizabeth walk past him without another word, and Shawn gapes at their retreating backs. Their hands are twined together, and Gus is grinning as he steps up by Shawn's side.

"Looks like you really got her number..." he says, barely containing his glee at Shawn's embarrassing failure.

"Well, she's obviously not quite right in the head. She's dating Lassie!"

"She looked pretty stable to me. Who would have guessed that Lassie could get someone as hot as that?"

"I'd give it two weeks. Tops."

Juliet, who had been passing by them, stops with interest. "Who? Carlton and Elizabeth? Because they've been dating a month already. In fact, I'm surprised you didn't get any psychic vibes about it before this."

Shawn scowls heavily. "Well, sometimes my visions are thrown off by my own logic. Usually only for things I know are impossible..."

Gus smirks. "Clearly not impossible, Shawn. The evidence was right in front of your face."

"Doesn't mean it makes sense." says Shawn grumpily.

"If I didn't know any better, Shawn, I'd say you were a little jealous." says Juliet, who also seems to be amused at Shawn's discontent.

"Me? Jealous? Of Lassie? No. Of course not..." replies Shawn, his voice higher than normal.

Gus claps Shawn on the back. "Yeah, Buddy." he agrees wistfully. "I feel the same way."

**A/N: This was written before the real creation of Elizabeth specifically, but a long-term OC for Lassie was in mind at the time. She just fits now. This one was actually light on Lassiter/Elizabeth, but the rest won't be. This just needed to go somewhere, so why not as a brief little intro to this collection of fics? Reviews are great. :) **


	2. Sway

**Chapter Two: Sway **

It starts slow, and it's really no surprise that it does. They've both been hurt before and both of them are a little awkward in romance, so it really is no great shock that they are wary when it comes to matters of the heart.

They go on one date, two dates. Steaks and shooting, what could be better?

Three dates, four dates. They have lunch together. Quiet conversation and smiles over toasted sandwiches and coffee (well, coffee for him, soda for her).

Date five, he takes her out for dinner again. He dresses nicely and brings her flowers (O'Hara assures him that he can't go wrong with roses). Elizabeth smiles and thanks him; the evening is spent pleasantly chatting about her family and his work, as well as nearly everything in between. It's about this time when he really starts to think of her as his girlfriend (the thought makes him grin like an idiot all the way home).

They take the physical part of the relationship slow as well. They kiss a lot and maybe make-out (just a little), but he never presses for more, and neither does she. They both know from experience that sex has a way of complicating relationships, and they want this one to be strong enough to overcome all obstacles when it does happen.

More dates. Elizabeth gets him to go to the movies with her, even though it really isn't his cup of tea. The best part of these dates is that afterward, they find a cafe and discuss the movie they've seen. (Conversation is usually best when the movie is bad, because then they can spend the whole time mocking it together).

After awhile, she starts inviting him over to her house. Nothing too special. Just take-out and movie marathons from her couch. He feels like a gawky teenager the first time he puts his arm around her shoulders, but she smiles in encouragement and leans her head against his chest.

He likes this very much.

It isn't long before he feels himself falling, slowly. Elizabeth makes him open and honest. She smooths the edges of his rough personality with reassuring words and soft kisses to his cheek. Oh, he's still gruff Carlton Lassiter – a damn good detective and a no-nonsense kind of guy, but he's...happy. Way happier than he's been in a really, really long time.

Three months of a steady relationship pass, a series of firsts and getting-to-know-you conversations that never feel forced.

O'Hara is over the moon about this. Carlton sees her beaming at him when she thinks he's not looking. She questions him every Monday morning, asks him what he did over the weekend. He knows she's fishing for details over his latest date. He is indebted to her for setting him up with Elizabeth, so he allows the questions and gives her answers to pretty much everything she wants to know.

However, if anyone besides O'Hara comments on his new, slightly more cheerful disposition, they get a swift reality check.

"You've sure been in a good mood lately, Detective Lassiter," comments Buzz one afternoon.

Carlton scowls at the lanky officer. "I'd be in a helluva lot better mood if you'd get me that suspect list. You know, the one I asked you for like, an hour ago. Dammit McNab, you're slacking!"

Carlton smirks as McNab jumps slightly and quickly shuffles away.

Not _everything_ changes just because he has a girlfriend...

* * *

Another couple of months pass, and he finds himself at her home once again. It's really quite common by now. There's a nearly-empty pizza box on her coffee table, and his legs are stretched in front of him as he sits on her couch. He's flipping through television channels, and she's got her head resting on his lap as she reads a magazine. He finds it a little telling that even though they're not actually doing anything _together_, he'd still rather be here than anywhere else.

He stops surfing channels when he finds a baseball game. Rockies versus Padres.

This will work for now...

"Do you dance, Carlton?" asks Elizabeth suddenly, and she looks up at him from her place on his leg.

He would think the question was completely out of nowhere if he couldn't see what was on the pages of her magazine: an article about Dancing with the Stars.

Of course he doesn't dance. Why would she even think he might?

"I don't dance," he gruffs out, keeping his answer as short as possible. He really hopes she didn't expect him to take her out dancing. He'd just make a fool of himself. Carlton Lassiter _doesn't_ dance.

Elizabeth sits up and looks over at him. "You don't dance...ever?"

"Ever." he assures her.

She crinkles her nose and narrows her eyes. "Not even in the privacy of my house?"

And before he can even answer, she stands up and goes over to her laptop. She clicks some things that he can't see from this vantage point.

"What are you -"

The sounds of music interrupt his sentence and thought processes. _Oh no_, he thinks. He can register nothing besides the soft melody of the slow song that now permeates his brain.

She practically bounces back over to him, grinning wickedly. She gently pries the remote from his grasp and turns the television off with it. Then she grabs him by the hand and pulls him to his feet.

She leads him over to the area behind her couch, where there is more room to move.

"Liz, I don't-"

"Come on, Carlton. Dancing is sexy," she teases, giving him a wink.

She grabs his arm and wraps it around herself so that his hand settles on the small of her back. She takes his left hand in her own and pulls herself closer to him, so that their bodies practically meld together. After that, all forms of protest die in his throat. He's suddenly enjoying this too much to care. Her right hand finds its way to his back. She clings to him and begins to lead. Small step to the left. Back. Small step to the right. Back.

He is a statue in her arms. "Carlton," she warns, with just the tiniest hint of irritation in her voice.

"I can't-"

"Follow my steps. It's just a slow song, nothing fancy." she reassures him.

He does what she says, a little awkwardly at first, but he finds the pattern and masters it. They rotate and sway together, and once she's sure that he's figured out what he's doing, she rests her head against his chest. He can smell her shampoo, the scent something fruity and entirely too intoxicating. Plus, he likes the way her body moves so easily with his, likes the feel of her in his arms.

"Okay," he admits, and she's honestly the only person in the world that could change his mind, "Maybe dancing isn't so bad."

She laughs into his shirt; he swears he can feel the vibrations of it in his heart. "God, I love you." she murmurs.

It takes a full three seconds for him to register the implications of this moment. This is the first time she's said those words to him. He honestly can't even remember the last time _anyone_ said that to him, and especially not like that...

Those three words have always scared him senseless.

But he thinks about Elizabeth and how he would do anything for her. He thinks about the way she makes him laugh, makes him happy, makes him feel...complete.

And he's not scared anymore.

"I love you too," he says quietly. The words seem foreign in his mouth, but they feel so right and perfect and true that it doesn't matter. "I'm in love with you," he repeats, because he likes the way it sounds.

She sighs contentedly, looks up to meet his eyes. He tilts his head down to meet hers, captures her lips in a soft, sweet, perfect kiss. It deepens and lasts, electricity sparking between them and he sees stars and fireworks and every cliché thing in the book.

It comes as no great surprise to either of them when, for the first time ever, she invites him to stay for the night.

**A/N: All I can say is that Lassie's a stud, and I love him. Reviews are golden and much appreciated. **


	3. Morning After

**Chapter Three: Morning After**

The morning after they spend the night together, he wakes up and, for a few seconds, has trouble remembering where he is. But then he turns and sees Elizabeth next to him, looking beautiful and innocent in sleep, and the memories rush back all at once.

Memories that fill him up with the kind of happiness that glows.

And he just wants to touch her, make sure that she's real. He reaches his hand out and rests it against the smooth skin of her stomach. But of course, she _would_ be a ridiculously light sleeper, and her eyes snap open at the contact. She takes in the sight of him, albeit sleepily, and instead of being angry that he woke her up, she smiles and scoots closer to him. He moves his arm over and she rests her head against his chest. Now it's _her _hand that rests against _his_ stomach, and she rubs comforting lines up and down his torso.

"Morning, Handsome." she murmurs.

She's honest-to-God the most wonderful person to wake up next to. He isn't good with words so he replies with the only obvious answer, even though he thinks it sounds a bit silly/cliché/borderline-stupid. "Morning, Beautiful."

Elizabeth sighs contently against him, enjoying the moment. "How'd I get so lucky?" she asks him.

He seriously can't believe her. He can't believe her at all. She's just trying to be nice, fill up the silence. She can't honestly think...

"I'm pretty sure I got the better deal out of the two of us," he replies critically.

"I beg to differ."

"Don't take offense, but you're an idiot."

"Such a sweet-talker."

"I know, but that's what I mean. I say stupid stuff and you don't get pissed off. Lots of people get pissed off..."

"They're too sensitive..."

"I got the better deal, Liz. Just trust me."

"How about we just agree that we're both pretty lucky? Will that work?"

"I guess I can live with that compromise."

"Good."

"We should probably be getting up..." he mumbles into her hair. Even though he has no real desire to move.

She groans at the suggestion. "Is there any reason why we have to? It's Saturday and it's barely 9:00."

Carlton can't think of any reason good enough to end this perfect dream. "I guess not," he chuckles.

She leans up slightly to kiss him; he kisses back, slow and perfect. Then she breaks the kiss and settles her head back against his chest. "Then I'm all for wasting the day with you, if you're up to the challenge." she says quietly.

He yawns and readjusts his head on the pillow. "Sounds like a good plan to me."


	4. Little Brother

**Chapter Four: Little Brother**

When she tells him that her younger brother is coming into town for the weekend, Carlton just assumes that this means he won't be able to see her because she'll be busy entertaining family. Elizabeth, as it turns out, has other ideas.

"No, Carlton. What I'm trying to say is that I want you to meet him." she says..

He's got the phone to his ear, but he nearly drops it at this suggestion. There are a thousand reasons why he doesn't want to do this. Well, maybe it's just one.

He's afraid that he won't get along with this guy, and then what will Elizabeth think of him? He knows how much she depends on the support and opinion of her family. He knows that if he screws this up, it could effectively throw a wrench into the cogs of their near-perfect-as-of-right-now relationship.

"Listen, Liz, I'm pretty sure I have to work so I don't think I have time to –"

"He's coming early on Friday and he'll be here all the way til Tuesday afternoon. Can't you find sometime out of all those days to meet up with us? What about dinner on Saturday? I can make dinner for you both."

"I can't."

"You don't work on Saturday. What's going on, Carlton?"

He hesitates, then blurts it out almost against his will. "What if he doesn't like me?"

"Oh! Don't worry about that, Carlton. Nick's the brother that gets along with everyone."

"But still...let's say he hates me..."

"He won't." she assures him. "And hey, if you're really concerned, just bring a six-pack. He'll love you for life."

* * *

He's got the six-pack of beer in his left hand and he knocks on her door with his right. He probably hasn't been this nervous since his first few dates with Elizabeth.

He expects her to answer and make the introductions, but to his dismay, it's a young man that greets him instead. Carlton knows that he's in his mid-twenties and technically an adult, but the first thing he thinks is that he's just a kid. He's got a boyish face, dimples, and dark hair that falls into his eyes. He's pretty easily recognizable as Elizabeth's brother.

He grins at Lassiter as if they're old friends. "There he is, the man of the hour!" he says. His voice is resounding but jovial, and he grabs Carlton's arm and pulls him inside.

"My big sis has told me all about you." he beams. Then he eyes the six-pack. "You shouldn't have," he smirks, but he takes the pack from Lassiter's hand anyway.

"Nick, are you harassing him already?" asks Elizabeth, appearing from her kitchen.

"I would never," he says innocently, and she shakes her head.

Elizabeth smiles over at Carlton. "He didn't even properly introduce himself, did he?"

"Not really."

"Sorry about that, Carl." says Nick. "My name is Nicholas Henson, the most lovable of all the Henson children."

"The most spoiled," corrects Elizabeth.

"Well, and that." he admits. He looks over at Elizabeth. "Dinner ready yet, sis?"

"Yes, actually. It's getting cold as we speak."

"Hmm...let's get to eating then. I want to get to know Carl here."

"Carlton," Carlton corrects.

"Yes. You." he smiles. Carlton follows the pair into the small dining area just off of the kitchen. Elizabeth serves spaghetti onto plates while Carlton and Nick take seats at the small round table.

Once he's sitting, Nick seems to calm himself, his energy melting into something more mature (and manageable, in Carlton's opinion). "It really is nice to meet you," he says. "Elizabeth hasn't stopped talking about you for what, six months?"

"Seven," Carlton corrects automatically. They've been together for seven months.

"Yeah. She says you're the Head Detective for the SBPD. I always knew she'd end up with a cop, with the way our family is." He rolls his eyes just as Elizabeth sets the plates down on the table.

She scowls. "Just because you never took to shooting the way the rest of us did..."

"Did we really need a fifth wannabe assassin in the family?"

"Shut up, Nick."

Nick eyes his plate. "Sis, you still think spaghetti is a gourmet meal, don't you?"

"Nick, this is probably your first home-cooked meal since Christmas. If I were you, I'd just say thank you and be done with it."

He grins over at Carlton. "She's right," he looks over at his sister as she takes her seat. "Thanks, Liz. For both the meal and letting me stay here."

She smiles. "Anytime, Nicky."

Carlton isn't entirely sure what to make of Elizabeth's younger brother. He goes from calm and serious one moment to bouncing off the walls with sarcasm the next. However, Carlton can't find anything to really dislike about him (except maybe in some instances he reminds Carlton a bit of Spencer). Or maybe he's just willing to overlook any flaws because, well, it's _Elizabeth's _brother.

The meal passes well enough, with Elizabeth and Nick arguing playfully and recounting old family stories for Carlton's benefit. Carlton actually laughs when Nick tells the story of how, when he was six, the two had been playing a game where Nick was a bull and Elizabeth was a matador, and she accidentally made him ram his head into a table.

"He was never the same," sighs Elizabeth wistfully.

Nick rolls his eyes as Elizabeth clears the table.

"You guys should head over to the couch while I get us some dessert and clean up, okay?"

"Sure thing, big sis."

And the two follow her suggestion and make their way back into the living room. Nick sits on one side of the couch and Carlton sits on the other. After a long moment of silence, Nick leans in slightly. His voice is low. "Hey, Carlton? I've got to talk to you about something serious now..."

Carlton feels a knot form in his stomach. What kind of mess will this kid get him into?

Nick crosses his arms, and he furrows his eyebrows. "What are your intentions with my sister?" he asks quietly, seriously.

Carlton just blinks back at Nick as he tries to figure out if he's really being given the third degree by this kid. "Excuse me?"

"Are you really in this for the long haul? You gonna marry her?"

"I...well, not this sec – "

"Be careful what you say. You've already got a strike against you, pal."

"What?"

"You didn't offer to help her with the dishes, or set the table. I pay attention to these things," Nick warns darkly.

"I thought she would want me to be talking to you!" Lassiter snaps, suddenly feeling flustered. Because of this punk kid.

"You better not hurt her or – "

Elizabeth enters the room at that second. She takes one look at the expression on both of their faces before she scowls at her brother. "Nick, were you doing that thing again?"

"What?" he asks, wide-eyed and innocent.

"Doing that thing where you try to freak out my boyfriends? I've told you a thousand times, that's not your job. You're the little brother, the baby brother. If that's anyone's job, which I'm not saying it is, it's Alex's."

She looks over at Carlton with a sympathetic glance. "He was just messing with you, Carlton..."

"I knew that." he replies quickly.

"Apologize to him, idiot." Elizabeth says to her little brother, holding a bowl of ice cream just out of his reach. He eyes the bowl with longing, then glances back over to Carlton.

"Sorry, Carlton, it's just...Alex gets all the good brotherly roles!"

Elizabeth smiles and hands him his bowl of ice cream, then she pats him on the head as if he's a puppy who has finally obeyed.

Carlton dares to wonder for the first time whether or not this whole family is crazy.

Elizabeth sits down between them and passes Carlton a bowl of Rocky Road.

"Thank you," he mumbles.

They all watch television for awhile, and when Nick is done with his ice cream, he gets up and yawns dramatically. "Well, sis, I'm pretty tired. I'm going to bed now." he says. He looks over at Carlton and nods. "It's been really nice to meet you, Carlton."

"Nice to meet you too..."

After he deposits his bowl in the sink, Nick trudges down to Elizabeth's spare bedroom.

"Isn't it a little early for hi – "

"He's not actually going to bed. He just wanted to give us some privacy. He'll be back out after you leave. Then he'll stay up to watch late night television on my couch."

"Oh."

"So, uh, what do you think of him?" she asks awkwardly.

"I...don't know." he replies honestly. "Does he always go from serious to immature in the span of two seconds like that?"

"Yeah, ever since he was little. I'm not kidding when I say I think he may have knocked something loose when he rammed his head into that table."

Lassiter snorts, then shakes his head. "He seems like a good enough guy, though."

"He is," she agrees. "Hasn't grown up yet, but his age will catch up to him sooner or later."

"I like him." replies Carlton, as he realizes that he actually does. Mostly. As long as he doesn't have to handle him every single day of his life (he's got Spencer to produce all the immaturity he can tolerate), he thinks maybe they can get along just fine.

"I'm glad," she smiles, and kisses him. She tastes like strawberry ice cream. He wonders if he tastes like chocolate.

After they break apart, he frowns at her. "I should go."

"Probably," she admits. He grabs his jacket from off the back of the couch, and she leads him to the door. He kisses her again.

"Night, Liz." He smirks. "Have fun with Nick."

She rolls her eyes. "I'm sure I will. Goodnight, Carlton."

When she closes the door and he begins the walk back to his car, he starts to wonder about how crazy the rest of her family is.

And even though the thought is a little frightening, he still thinks it might be nice (or at least really interesting) to meet the rest of them sometime.


	5. Beach Days

**Chapter Five: Beach Days**

**A/N: The quick update is just a result of wanting to get a lot of this out there before I am sufficiently distracted writing tags for all the new episodes. Oh and this one is definitely Rated T for a smattering of innuendos.  
**

Elizabeth persuades him to go to the beach with her in order to swim (her most powerful argument is that otherwise, he'll never get to see her new bikini). His argument is that he doesn't do swimming. Or at least, he doesn't do public swimming, with so many people around, taking up his space. But he's used arguments like that before. Every time he uses words like _doesn't, can't, won't, _she always manages to turn the argument around and it always ends up that he _does, can, _and _will._

She meets him at the car when he comes to pick her up. When she looks over at him from the passenger seat, her smile turns into a scowl at the sight of him. He's wearing his civilian clothes, which consists of his work clothes and a 'casual gentleman shoe.'

She lets out an exasperated sigh. "You dressed like that for the beach? You're going to look ridiculous, you know. You should have brought shorts."

"I hate shorts," he replies. "I don't even own any."

She shakes her head. "Well, I know what I'm getting you for your birthday. Are you at least wearing swim trunks under there?"

"Yes," he answers firmly. "Although I still don't wanna swim, so..."

"You're swimming. Get over it."

He grunts in response.

The beach is just as crowded as usual, but they manage to find a spot to themselves. She throws a blanket down for them, and places the small cooler with their lunch on top of it. Then she shimmies out of her shorts and takes off her blouse, revealing the bikini underneath.

Polka dots. Blue ones.

He tries not to gape.

"Come on, let's go swimming."

He looks around, feeling self-conscious and awkward. "I could just wa-"

"Carlton Lassiter, don't make me take those clothes off of you myself. This is a family place, and by the time I got to your zipper...well, that would just look wrong."

Carlton makes a face at the thought, then shakes his head and sighs. He removes his jacket and leaves it on the blanket, then he works off his tie and starts to undo the buttons of his shirt. "You're going to pay for this later," he mutters, but it's an empty threat and she smiles because she knows it.

"God, I hope so. I keep asking about those handcuffs of yours..."

He groans, a slight red flushing his cheeks. "I keep telling you, they aren't toys. We really can't be using them like – "

"I'm just kidding, anyway." she interrupts. "Well, sort of. I'm kidding until you finally say yes."

He kicks off his shoes and socks. He slips off his pants, and tosses them onto the blanket. He's only in swim trunks now, and he's pretty sure he's blushing deep red, but she smiles at him. "Come on," she nods to the ocean, and together, they make their way down to the water.

It's cold when it hits their toes, but he knows that there is no point in arguing or suggesting they do something (anything) else. He grits his teeth and follows her into deeper water. He watches her dip down bravely beneath the surface. He waits for her to pop back up. When she does, she grins at him. "It's less cold when you just go for it."

"I'll take your word for it."

She grins evilly and swipes her arm across the surface of the water, so that it splashes him in the chest and face.

He sputters. "Hey!"

"You asked for it."

"No, you did." he replies, and before he even thinks about what he's doing, he's swiping his arm across the waves as hard as he can. The blast of water hits her and she narrows her eyes at him. She dips below the surface and he barely has time to wonder at her evil schemes before something hits his shins.

Effectively thrown off balance, he falls back and his head goes under. There's a tangle of limbs and hair and ocean. His eyes sting with saltwater, and when he regains his sense of direction, he pushes upward and breaks the surface. While he's gasping for air, he hears her chuckle behind him.

He smirks, a plan already formed in his mind. When he turns, he swipes the water again, with two arms this time, and the blast hits her squarely in the face. While she's still rubbing the water from her eyes, he takes his turn at retaliation. He dips beneath the water and swims with powerful motions. He aims and hits her at the knees. She tumbles down with him. They're both underwater for a long moment, wrapped in each other. When they finally break the surface again, they're both completely drenched and laughing together.

"Don't start the game if you don't want to play," he says, smirking. She smiles playfully back at him, and a small part of him realizes that they are both acting like children. He allows himself only a second to wonder why he's letting himself behave this way, but then he remembers that he doesn't care.

He doesn't care too much about anything right now, besides enjoying the moment.

That is, until he hears the all-too familiar voice of a certain person that is completely unwelcome.

"Lassie?"

Carlton and Elizabeth turn and, sure enough, they see Shawn and Gus bare-chested and standing nearby in waist-deep water.

Lassiter holds back a groan. Nothing, in his opinion, is worse than having to see Spencer on what is supposed to be a Spencer-free day. Elizabeth, however, actually smiles at the pair. "Hey, Shawn. Hey, Gus."

Gus smiles politely. Shawn grins. "Hey, Lizzy-face. Wait a minute...Lizzy-face?" he questions himself. He looks as if he's realizing something for the first time. "Lassie-face. Lizzy-face. Lassie-face. Lizzy-face. I can't believe I just caught the symmetry there!"

Lassiter feels his hold on his anger break. "If you've got a point, Spencer, get to it!" he growls.

"My point is this, Lassie. I can't believe you're actually here, swimming and having fun. You're almost like a normal person!"

Gus nods in agreement. "I think I actually heard him laugh, Shawn. I didn't know he could do that." remarks Gus in a tone of slight wonder.

Carlton's irritation mounts, but before he can say anything, Shawn is speaking again, this time to Elizabeth.

"You're good for him," he tells her, and his voice has a level of seriousness that none of them are used to. Lassiter waits for the joke, the sarcasm, but it never comes. Shawn just smiles at Elizabeth for a long (and weird) moment.

Then he shakes his head and comes back to himself. He turns to his best friend. "Hey, Gus. I'm feeling stirrings in my belly. I think its hotdog time. What do you say?"

"I hear that," nods Gus.

Shawn turns back to Lassiter and Elizabeth. "We'll be seeing you guys. For the moment, though, we've got eating to do. Bye Lizzy and Lassie!"

Gus says goodbye as well, and then the two turn and start heading back to shore.

Carlton blinks as though stunned. "I really thought they were going to try and stick around to be a pain in my ass...they never usually leave me alone."

Elizabeth places a hand on his shoulder, watching the backs of the pair as well. "I think that they wanted to let us enjoy our date...you heard him," she smirks. "I'm good for you."

"You are, but that would imply that Spencer wants me to be happy. And since he devotes countless hours to making that an impossibility, it's obviously not that one."

"Obviously not." she says, humoring him.

Carlton nods. "He must have been really hungry. That's all."

**A/N: Reviews are amazing and much appreciated. **


	6. First Fight: Jealousy

**Chapter Six: First Fight: Jealousy**

She didn't realize that she didn't have any food until he came over, so they take a trip to the grocery store together. It's a new experience for both of them. She gets all the items she needs, the basics like eggs and milk and bread and cheese. He helps her pick out the snacks, and they debate the merits of ice cream versus the merits of crunchy, salty chips. They end up getting both.

It's at the check-out line when they hear the surprised voice.

"Elizabeth?" questions the man who had just stepped into line behind them. Carlton and Elizabeth both turn simultaneously.

"Oh, hey, Alan." replies Elizabeth. Carlton eyes him with suspicion. He's about 6'2'' and he's attractive enough to be called handsome. Carlton, however, thinks he looks like a jerk.

"Fancy seeing you here," says Alan with a smirk, and Carlton feels a lurching in his stomach. He hates the guy almost immediately, and when Alan finally turns his attention to Carlton, he can tell that the feeling is mutual.

"Liz, you forgot to introduce me to your friend." says Alan, and though he is smiling, his eyes are not.

Carlton feels his blood boil beneath the surface. He doesn't like this guy calling her Liz. He doesn't like him at all.

"This is my _boyfriend, _Carlton Lassiter. Carlton, this is my friend, Alan Sanders."

There is a definite look of disappointment on his face at the word "boyfriend," and Carlton smirks victoriously. _Yeah, that's right. _

"Nice to meet you," says Carlton quickly, before Alan can get the words out.

"You too." says Alan, giving him a long stare. But then he turns to Elizabeth with a sunny smile. "Liz, we should totally catch up sometime." And then, with a nerve Lassiter can't believe, Alan places his hand on Elizabeth's shoulder. Many times in his life, Carlton has been tempted to break a person's hands. Never has it seemed so appealing, but he fights the urge as red tints his vision.

Elizabeth shrugs him off. "Maybe." she says.

"What are you doing next Friday?" Alan asks.

"She'll be with me," answers Lassiter before he can stop himself. "I'm going to take her out for the night. Special dinner, movies, the works."

"How nice," says Alan, though it's obvious he doesn't mean it. "Maybe some other time then, Liz. Still got my number, in case your schedule opens up?"

Carlton can read between the lines. _In case your schedule opens up _is equivalent to saying, _when you break up with this moron and decide to upgrade. _

"Yes, I still have it," she says. And then it's their turn in line, and Carlton is rushing the cashier to get everything as Alan keeps trying to talk to Elizabeth.

Carlton waits until they have said their goodbyes and have gotten into the car before he says anything. His hands grip the steering wheel tightly and his voice is far harsher than he intends it to be, but he can't level it out. "Who is he?" he asks without looking at her. He starts the car and pulls out from the parking lot.

She doesn't say anything, so he looks over at her and she's glaring at him. He has no idea what he's done wrong, but she's giving him that look that says he's definitely done something.

"An old boyfriend?" he demands. He doesn't want to take his irritation with Alan out on her, but he can't stop. That guy was such a jerk, and...God, he can't handle that.

"I'd hardly call him an old boyfriend," she snaps. "We went on three dates. It didn't work out. I haven't talked to him since."

"Did you decide to stop seeing him, or did he decide to stop seeing you?"

It's an impertinent question, and they both know it. "I decided to stop seeing him. He was just...no. Too needy, too clingy, annoying."

"Do you really still have his number?"

"No."

Carlton feels himself relax slightly, but then he registers her clipped tone and the fact that she's still looking daggers at him.

"Why are you mad at me?" he asks.

She scowls. "_She'll be with me,_" she quotes. "We didn't have plans, Carlton."

"I know." he says. "But you didn't want to see him anyway, right? I got you out of it."

"That's the point! I don't need you to get me out of it. I could have done it myself."

"Yeah, but I was just making sure you – "

"Making sure I didn't agree? Why would I agree? And anyway, it would be my choice if I wanted to catch up with him or not. Not yours."

"So you do want to meet up with him."

"No, that's not what I said. It's just, one of the things I couldn't stand about him was how easily he got _jealous._" she emphasizes the last word and glares pointedly at him.

His heart sinks into his stomach. Suddenly, his anger melts and there's this fear replacing it. He doesn't know what to say or how to fix this. _Oh, God, _he thinks. _She's going to break up with me. She's going to say she can't be with someone like me...I'm a waste of her time.  
_

He doesn't know how to block the inevitable blow, so he keeps his mouth shut and they drive in silence all the way back to her house. He wordlessly helps her unload the car of groceries. They haul them into the house together, and they set the bags on the kitchen counter.

Then she sighs out heavily and looks at him. "We need to talk about this." she says, and she nods to the couch. He follows her back into the living room and they sit together. She looks at him, and he wants to tell her that he doesn't want to talk. Because he's afraid she's going to say, _it's over, I'm done. _

But he can't get the words out to tell her not to do this; they stick in his throat.

"All right, I'll start," she says with a small, sad smile. "I'm going to tell you why I was so unhappy with the way you got jealous, okay?"

"Okay," he mumbles back, and he focuses on looking at her hands, because he can't look her in the eyes.

"My ex-husband was always jealous, always trying to control me. If I had any guy friends, he would freak out about it. He acted like he couldn't trust me, and when I could see how mad you were at Alan, I started to wonder: do you not trust me?"

"I trust you," he defends. "I just...I don't trust Alan. You saw the way he was...he didn't care that I was with you. He was still trying to..."

"Carlton, I know. He's an idiot. But he's an idiot I could have easily have waved off by myself."

"I guess so." he says, not entirely convinced, and he still hates the way Alan called her Liz, and the way he touched her arm and the way he...

"I told you what my ex-husband did. He cheated on me, and it just...killed me. I would never put someone through that. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Carlton replies softly, finally looking up at her. "I didn't mean to...I just hate feeling like I could..." He feels too vulnerable to keep going, but he clenches his fists and forces out the words. "I hate feeling like I could lose you to someone else. Someone better."

She smiles and shakes her head. "Carlton Lassiter, for the past few months I've only been thinking of you. Just you, nobody else. As long as I'm with you, it's only going to be you – and I'm not planning on leaving anytime soon. You make me too happy."

"I'm not leaving anytime soon, either." he replies honestly.

"I'm glad."

He groans slightly as a realization hits. "I bet you're going to say I should _work _on my._..jealous tendencies_, right?"

She laughs. "That would be nice, yes. But hey, it can be a slow progression. We've got all the time in the world."

She closes the space between them and kisses his cheek. "And hey, guess what we're doing next Friday?" she whispers in his ear.

"We didn't have any plans..."

She smiles, kisses his cheek again. "We do now. You owe me dinner and a movie, Carlton. And don't try to get out of it."

He smirks slightly and kisses her back. "I wouldn't dare."


	7. Double Shift

**Chapter Seven: Double Shift**

There's pressure building behind his eyes, the start of a migraine just another reminder of how much he wants to be done with work today.

It's not that he doesn't enjoy his job.

In fact, the general consensus is that he enjoys it _too much._

But not today.

Today, his caseload was too heavy, he interrogated too many punk suspects, spent too much time in the summer heat, and got to watch Spencer solve one of his cases.

And now, he's stuck filling out piles of paperwork on everything he's done today, and to top it off, he already had to cancel his dinner plans with Elizabeth. As he works his way through the pile that never seems to get smaller, as shift number one does a slow fade into shift number two with no perceptible change, he wonders if it will ever end.

It sure as hell doesn't feel like it.

When he glances at the still-disturbingly high stack of papers, he can't help but give in to a little self-pity. He presses his face into his hands and groans. He rubs his eyes and tries to regain his focus so that he can just get this done, but for the life of him, he can't find the energy to look up.

Until he feels a hand on his back.

Perhaps it's a cop-distrust, or maybe his day has just been way too long, but he whips his head around fully prepared to come face to face with an armed criminal (despite the fact that someone who was going to attack him at the _police station _has to be both an idiot and also have a death wish_). _

But instead of a criminal, he is greeted with the sight of Elizabeth, who is grinning at him. "Kind of jumpy today, huh?"

He doesn't even have the energy to smile at her, although he does attempt to soften his tone from his instinctual growl. "What are you doing here, Liz?"

She smiles. "Brought you dinner," she says, holding up a box of Chinese take-out, which he had only just noticed. She sets it down on his desk, along with a packaged plastic fork and fortune cookie. "Thought you might be in need of some sustenance."

He looks at the container and his stomach grumbles with the hunger he has been denying for at least two hours. Then he looks back at Elizabeth. "Thank you...hey, listen, I'm really sorry about tonight. I just had to get this done."

"Hey, no need to explain. We both get our share of late work days, and you look like you've had a rough one."

He shrugs. "You could say that."

She grins and places her hands on his shoulders, massaging them gently. He groans and rolls his neck. "Damn, that feels good."

Elizabeth laughs. "That _is _kind of the point."

He sighs and allows it for a few moments before saying, "Okay, I think that's enough." He's not entirely sure how _professional_ it looks to have his girlfriend massaging him at his desk, and she seems to understand his concern, because she lets her hands fall away without protest.

She leans against the edge of his desk. "Are you still coming over tonight?"

"Do you want me to? I might not be done til really late..."

"I can stay up for you," she grins. "And if I can't, well, I give you full permission to wake me up when you arrive. I've missed you too much today."

Carlton smirks. "So does that mean I have to come over, and that I don't have a choice?"

"Sounds about right."

"Then I'll be there as soon as I can."

She smiles, leans in and gives him a quick peck of a kiss. "I better be going...I don't need to be distracting you from your work, Detective."

He wants to protest, but she has a point. "Bye, Elizabeth."

"See you later, Carlton." she says, and he watches her leave.

He sighs to himself, feeling wistful but re-energized. He's about to grab his Chinese food container, but pauses as he eyes the fortune cookie on his desk. On a whim, he reaches for it instead. He tears open the plastic and cracks open the cookie, pulling out the small slip of paper as he does so.

He usually hates fortunes and fortune cookies, but this one makes him smile sincerely. The words replay themselves in his head, a happy mantra even two hours later when the pile of paperwork finally dwindles down to nothing.

Before leaving his desk, he throws away the take-out container and the rest of his trash, but folds up the tiny fortune and slips it into his pocket.

He doesn't need to keep it – the words are already burned into his memory – but he does, because he likes having a tangible reminder of what he really believes to be true:

_The best is yet to come. _


	8. Panic!

**Chapter Eight: Panic!**

**A/N: This is the first of two closely connected chapters...as opposed to some of the other chapters which were stories in their own right. The idea was too big for just one chapter. The next one is giving me some trouble, but I'll have it done as soon as I can. :) **

He stands in front of her desk, hands jammed awkwardly in his pockets.

She looks up at him with a weary glance. "Yes, Carlton?"

"O'Hara, could you...?"

She waits but he doesn't continue.

"What?" she presses hurriedly; it's almost the end of the workday, so she can't help it if she is just a little impatient.

"Never mind."

But he doesn't move away from her desk.

"In exactly five minutes, I'm going home, Carlton. So if there's anything you need, you better ask now."

He sighs heavily and collapses into a nearby chair. "I need your help."

Juliet blinks slowly. Carlton isn't usually the type to ask for help, and he's got this desperate look in his eyes that freaks her out. This must be serious. "What's wrong?"

"Elizabeth's birthday is coming up and I don't know what to get her."

Juliet smiles with relief (she thought maybe he had finally killed Shawn and wanted help disposing of the body, or something like that). "When is it?"

"Uh...two days from now?"

Her relief melts instantly. "Ugh, why did you put it off for so long, Carlton?"

Carlton looks away. "I thought it would be easy to figure out what to get her..."

Juliet sighs. "Well, I guess I can try to help you. First off, as far as you can remember, has she been hinting for anything in particular?"

Carlton thinks for a moment, then shakes his head. "Last time it was ever mentioned, she said she didn't want me to get her anything. But I'm pretty sure I'm supposed to ignore that, right?"

Juliet laughs. "Yeah, that's probably a safe bet. That means it doesn't have to be anything too extravagant, but I'm sure she'd still love to know you were thinking about her."

"So...?"

"Well, let's look at all the things she likes..."

"Shooting," Carlton offers hopefully.

"True," Juliet agrees. "She also loves reading, though."

"Movies..."

"So, has she mentioned wanting any books or movies that have come out recently?"

He thinks for a long moment, trying really hard to remember any books or movies she may have alluded to, but he comes up short. "I really don't think so."

"Jewelry is usually a safe bet..." Juliet attempts.

"The only jewelry she ever really wears are earrings..."

"New earrings then, maybe?"

"Maybe..." says Carlton, not entirely convinced that jewelry would be the best present for Elizabeth.

He stands and runs a hand awkwardly through his hair. "I guess I should check out the store. I'll look until something...just jumps out at me, I guess..."

But he doesn't move. He just looks at Juliet with a lost expression on his face.

She sighs. "You want me to come with you, don't you?"

"Oh, thank God." says Carlton. "I thought I was actually going to have to ask you."

Juliet rolls her eyes. "I'll go, in case you're wondering."

"...I thought we established that already..."

"You did. I wasn't quite there yet."

"Oh. Well. You're there now, right?"

Exasperation. "_Yes, _Carlton."

"Good."

* * *

When they finally reach the local department store (where they figure they'll have the best variety of possible presents), they head to the most likely sections first. Carlton looks over the books, but none of the titles jump out at him. Juliet loses herself among the women's clothing department, thoroughly distracted when she finds an ultra-cute pair of shorts she'd like to keep for herself.

They reconvene at the jewelry department. Juliet hovers over the options, posing questions to Carlton. "Does she like silver or gold? Maybe a necklace instead of earrings? What do you think about that?"

It all looks pretty pointless to Carlton. Jewelry might be a safe bet, but it isn't the best bet.

And he wants the best.

Lassiter leaves O'Hara to her musings over the jewelry and finds himself wandering among the electronics. He scans DVDs without much interest. He may not be a hearts-and-frill kind of guy, but he can't help but think that buying her a movie – even one she really wanted – would be decidedly unromantic.

He looks over the various shelves of items. Elizabeth likes technology, but she doesn't need an iPod or a stereo or anything for her computer. She doesn't even need a digital camera; she bought one for herself a month back.

He's almost giving up hope when he sees it.

Carlton knows without a doubt that this is what she wants.

"O'Hara?" he calls out. "O'Hara I've found it."

Juliet appears at his side almost instantly.

"What?" she asks, looking excited.

He nods to the section of items just in front of him. She looks over and raises an eyebrow. "Definitely has potential...you sure this is what she would like, though?"

"Yeah. I saw her looking at prices of them online awhile back. And it's perfect, isn't it? Not too flashy, but something she actually wants and can use?"

"It's a good idea, Carlton."

"You really think so?"

"Yeah. Yeah I do."

**A/N: I feel pretty happy bringing Juliet back into the mix. :) And yes, you will find out what he bought her. Reviews are fantastic, as always. **


	9. Birthday

**Chapter Nine: Birthday**

That morning, he calls Elizabeth and wishes her a happy birthday. She accepts it graciously and confirms their dinner plans, which consist of his apartment, a home-cooked meal, and candlelight.

That evening, she arrives at his place to flavorful smells and the sight of Carlton in an apron.

Which, of course, makes her laugh and tease him just a little.

"Auditioning for a Mr. Mom role?" she asks as she comes through the door and gets a good look at him.

He scowls at her. "It's for _your _meal, may I remind you."

She smirks. "First off, it's _our _meal. Secondly, don't get hostile. It's my birthday."

He softens slightly. "Yeah, it is. Has it been good so far?"

"It's been great," she says, setting her purse on the counter. "All my family called to wish me a happy birthday. Oh, and my friends at work took me out for a nice lunch."

"Well, I hope you're ready for steak." he says, piling the meat onto a plate along with a siding of rice and vegetables.

"Steak?" she questions in surprise.

He turns and hands her the plate. "Yeah. You said it was your favorite..."

She smiles, sets the plate down on the dining table, and then returns to Carlton. She rubs a hand over his back and kisses his cheek. "It is."

"Good," he says mildly, piling his own food onto another plate.

He sets his plate down, then grabs a lighter from off the kitchen counter and proceeds to light the two candles placed on the center of the dining table.

After that, he switches off a couple of the lights, leaving the apartment to be lit by the two dancing flames and that last bit of fading sunlight peeking in through the blinds. Elizabeth sighs contently. "This looks great..."

"It better, for all the thought and effort I put into it," he smirks.

She laughs. "Well, I can assure you, it's appreciated."

He settles himself at the table and can't help but give her a genuine smile. "Happy Birthday, Liz."

She smiles back at him. "I would lean over and kiss you, but I'm ninety percent sure that I'd knock over those candles and light your place on fire."

"Damn things..."

After that, they dig into their food. She tells him about her day, and asks about his. He tells her with a smirk about the suspect who finally cracked after an hour of intense interrogation. When they both finish the meal, Elizabeth compliments the food. "That steak was perfect..." she says, smiling widely.

"Are you ready for cake?" he asks, even though they just finished dinner.

"You'd think I wouldn't be, considering how much I just ate," she muses. "But my sweet tooth doesn't want to hold off any longer..."

He nods in agreement, then retrieves the cake from his freezer. "It's an ice cream cake, I hope that's okay."

"Absolutely."

He cuts the cake and serves it. She looks down at it with a smirk on her face.

"What's wrong?" he asks, slightly concerned.

The smirk widens. "How am I supposed to eat birthday cake without having someone sing me the happy birthday song?"

He shakes his head at her, fighting a smile. "That's not happening."

"Why?"

"It'd be different if there were other people around to sing it with me. But I'm not singing it by myself. I'll feel like an idiot."

Elizabeth smiles coyly and crosses her arms. "I can't eat this cake without the birthday song."

"But I paid good money for it..."

"I know."

He feigns a glare at her and humphs out a sigh. "You know, sometimes, I hate you." he says, even though he already knows he'll do it. Because he did _not_ waste money on that cake.

"You love me," she replies simply, and he can't even deny it.

Carlton shakes his head, but resigns himself to the worst and begins the song. "Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you." His singing is hurried and low, and Elizabeth can see the small blush creeping into his cheeks. "Happy Birthday Elizabeth, happy birthday to you."

"You forgot _dear," _she challenges him.

"You don't get 'dear' when you make me sing."

She laughs at that. "Aw well. The speedy version actually made that _more _entertaining for me, just so you know."

Carlton just rolls his eyes. "Now I guess you'll make a wish, too?" he asks sarcastically, but she just smiles.

"Good idea," she replies, and blows out one of the candles set on the table.

They each eat the cake in quiet enjoyment, for the most part. When they've both finished a piece, Carlton gets up and turns the lights back on. Elizabeth stands as well and begins to gather up the dirty dishes. As she does this, he walks over to the writing desk in the corner of his living room.

"Hey," he starts, casually calling over to her. "What would you say if I told you I got you a present, even though you told me not to?" he asks as he opens his desk drawer.

She deposits some silverware into the sink, then turns to to look at him. "Well, first I'd probably say you were a stubborn jerk for not listening to me," she begins.

He pauses as his hand grabs hold of her present.

"And then I'd probably say something along the lines of thank you and I love you..."

He exhales with slight relief, then pulls the wrapped present out of the drawer and holds it up for her to see. He jerks his head in the direction of his living room couch. "Come on, I want you to open this sucker."

Elizabeth raises an eyebrow. "Is that your way of trying to make opening a present sound, I don't know, tough or something?"

Carlton shrugs and sits on his couch. Elizabeth joins him and turns to face him, folding her legs under herself in order to feel more comfortable.

"Careful when you hold it, I already took it out of the box. I, uh, wanted to set it up."

Carlton can see her curiosity peak, just from the look in her eyes.

He hands the package over to her. It's about the size of a mini-notebook and hard-edged. She handles it carefully and slowly tears into the silver wrapping paper. Once it falls away, she pulls out the item and looks down at it.

For just a few seconds, she's speechless.

Then she smiles and looks at him. "Carlton..."

"You like it, right?" he asks, trying not to sound too anxious. "I've got the receipt if – "

"I love it," she interrupts. "I've been wanting one ever since I bought the new camera...I'm just surprised that you thought of it."

Carlton feigns a scowl, though he'd rather smile. "I do have good ideas sometimes," he says defensively.

"Yes, you do." she agrees. "Thank you for this. It's great."

"Turn it on and check it out."

Elizabeth traces the edge of the silver frame, then turns it over. She finds the small switch and turns it on, then flips it back over so that they can both see the small screen, which now displays a crystal-clear picture of Carlton and Elizabeth.

Elizabeth recognizes the picture as one that was taken on her couch at home. Carlton's arm was wrapped around her shoulders as she did her best to take the picture with one out-stretched arm. The photograph was one of many she had taken when she first bought her new digital camera, back when she was still testing out all the functions and seeing what worked best.

She had asked...well, forced...Carlton to be in many of them, both with and without her. At first, he had resisted becoming her main photography subject, but eventually he had realized it was a losing battle and let her snap as many pictures as she wanted.

As they watch the screen, the picture changes to one of them at the beach. Elizabeth remembers that one, too. She had kindly asked a stranger if he would snap a picture of the two of them together. He had probably thought that Carlton and Elizabeth were tourists...

As the pictures keep changing, Elizabeth realizes that Carlton had uploaded most of the photos of them together into the device, as well as some of her family pictures that she'd kept on her computer.

She tears her eyes away from the small screen to look over at him. He had been watching her reaction anxiously. She smiles sincerely at him. "It's perfect, Carlton...and I think I'll keep it for my work desk..."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking too," Carlton admits. "So you really like it, right? I mean, really?"

In answer, she sets the the digital frame down on the coffee table, roughly pulls him closer by the collar of his shirt, and proceeds to overwhelm him with the force of her kiss.

**A/N: First of all, I loved the speculation in your reviews of what the gift could have been. Several of you guessed at an e-reader, like the Kindle, which would have been awesome - had I thought of it. In fact, had I thought of it, it might have been my first choice. That being said, I think digital picture frames are pretty cool too (I personally want one). The reviews totally made my day, so thanks to everyone keeping up with this story. More to come soon, this time going back to almost oneshot-like chapters. :)**


	10. Wedding Bells

**Chapter Ten: Wedding Bells**

He lets himself into her house with the key she had given him just three weeks previous. After some long discussions, they had both agreed that they weren't _quite _ready to move in with each other, although they did want to take another meaningful step in their relationship. So they both made copies of their respective keys and switched. So far, the arrangement has worked out well.

Better than well.

It's perfect.

Every time he uses that key...he feels like he's coming _home. _

Today is no different, except she doesn't greet him as he expects her to. He can see the top of her head resting against the arm of the couch, and when he steps inside and closes the door, he registers how animatedly she is talking on the phone. In fact, he's pretty sure he's never heard her this excited.

It makes him smile.

"Oh, Sara! I can't wait. This is so exciting! I am so happy for you and Ethan!"

An alarm bell goes off in Carlton's head, although it isn't so much an alarm as a tiny _ping_ of recognition as he put the pieces together. Sara, Elizabeth's sister. Ethan, Sara's longtime (two years) boyfriend. It doesn't take a detective to figure this one out...

He walks around the couch and mouths, "Hi," to Elizabeth.

"Carlton!" she squeals. She moves her legs to make room for him on the couch, then pats the spot beside her. "I've got to tell you the news! It's great! Sara and Ethan are engaged!"

Carlton smiles, then sits down. "Tell her congratulations from me."

"Carlton says congratulations...oh yes, I know. It's going to be wonderful...but hey, I know we really need to keep talking about this, but I haven't seen Carlton all day. Can I call you back later?"

"You don't have to-" Carlton tries to protest, but she ignores him.

"Okay. Yes, okay. Love you too. Bye."

She looks over at him and beams, then leans over and pulls him into a kiss. "And how was your day?" she whispers, running fingers through his hair.

"All right. Nothing much happened, to be honest."

She smiles. "What do you want for dinner?"

"I don't know." he says.

She frowns at him, surprised by the short response. "Carlton, are you okay?"

"Yeah I was just...never mind."

"Come on, tell me!"

"I was just wondering about your sister's wedding."

Elizabeth waits for further explanation, but when none comes, she feels the need to pry it out of him. "What about it?" she asks, somewhat patiently.

He looks away from her. "It's just...will I have to go?"

Instead of glaring and pulling away, as he expected, she laughs. He's always amazed at how the things that usually got him in trouble with other women just roll right off of her. "Not if you don't want to," she says fairly. "But I would _like_ you to go. You can be my date."

The thing is, he hates weddings. He hates the formality, the long drives to ceremonies, the way he feels so crowded when around such large groups of people. Not to mention it still brings up memories of his first marriage-now-divorce.

But he loves Elizabeth, and although she doesn't say it, he can tell how badly she _does _want him to be there. And being Elizabeth's date _anywhere _is always a hard offer to pass up. He makes the mistake of meeting her eyes, and seeing the quietly hopeful look hidden there.

He holds in a sigh. "I'll go, Liz." he reassures her.

She grins, almost victoriously. She knows just how to play him, he decides. But, surprisingly, he doesn't mind so much. She kisses him again, and it's perfection. And although he should be paying attention to this moment and the here and now, he finds himself wondering about Ethan's proposal, for some unfathomable reason. He wonders whether he did it right or wrong, private or public, whether he asked for Mr. Henson's permission first, whether he – Carlton – should do the same when he pro-

He cuts that thought short, too intimidated to even allow it in the privacy of his brain.

But it's there, this thought.

This feeling.

He loves Elizabeth, loves the thought of being with her, and while he had once given up on the concept of marriage...right now, as she kisses him, he thinks maybe he could give it a second chance. But only for her.

And he wonders if she'll do the same for him, when that time finally comes.


	11. These Whispered Secrets of the Morning

**Chapter Eleven: These Whispered Secrets of the Morning**

There are these things she asks him in the early hours of the morning. She asks him questions, mostly personal and deep, as she rests her head against his chest and as he plays his fingers up her shoulder and into her hair.

He doesn't know why Elizabeth asks him questions like this, and for the life of him, he can't figure out why he always answers.

"What are you most afraid of, Carlton?"

It's whispered words near his ear, and he sighs at this feeling that envelops him; he's learning to live for this closeness, this warmth, this _contentment_.

He can feel her breathing with him as he examines the question from all angles. Several different options cross his mind. He's afraid of death, but not more so than anyone else. In fact, perhaps even less so – it's practically a job requirement that everyone in law enforcement must get used to the idea of death...

...And he's definitely afraid of being alone for the rest of his life, but again, the time after Victoria and before Elizabeth had taught him how to cope with this particular fear.

In the end, it's his most simple and basic fear that wins out.

"The dark," he answers quietly.

She shifts slightly; he can feel her every movement in bed. "No, seriously."

He frowns and turns his head slightly to look at her. "I _am_ serious. The dark."

"Come on, Carlton, you can't expect me to believe that _you, _of all people, are afraid of -"

"Not normal dark," he interrupts defensively. "I have no problem sleeping at night in the dark, when it's all gray and you can see the shadows of everything."

"So you don't need a night-light?" she teases, and he might be annoyed if she weren't rubbing comforting lines down his chest and stomach, soothing him into calm.

Carlton continues his explanation. "I just hate that first moment when I turn off the last light, the few seconds before my eyes adjust. I hate that pitch black where I can't see even a foot in front of me...I mean, how in the hell am I supposed to protect myself from things I can't see?"

"Oh," she says. "I get what you mean now."

"Yeah."

There's a moment of comfortable silence in which her toes skim against his foot. It makes him smile and he closes his eyes. "What about you? What are you most afraid of?"

She pulls herself even closer to him, snuggles against his side. The whisper reaches his ears and his heart almost stops.

"Losing someone I love."

His muscles tighten automatically, an anxiousness he can't quite qualify simmering beneath the surface of his skin. "If that's your biggest fear...you sure picked a guy with a helluva job." he says. He isn't sure if he wants it to be a joke or not.

"Yeah. I know." she sighs.

And before he can stop himself, he's pulling away from her touch and sitting up in bed. Every part of him is tense and the warmth he had previously felt is now gone. His fingers clutch tightly at the bedsheets.

"Carlton...what's wrong? What did I say?" Elizabeth asks, sitting up beside him. Her hand goes to his shoulder, and he feels bad when he shrugs her off, but he can't handle it right now.

It isn't what she said so much as his own realization that rips at his heart. He wants her, more than anything else, to be happy. How can she be happy when she will be forced to worry constantly about his safety? He will never be able to offer her the reassurance that nothing will _ever _happen to him. He can't give that to anyone. How can they keep this up only for it to end, with her, worried and crying and saying that she can't do it anymore? That she can't be the girlfriend, or God forbid, _wife_, of a cop anymore?

It's one of the few times that having his job has made him so..._sad. _

The words are difficult to get out, but he has to say this before it's too late. "Liz, I don't want you to always be worried about me, and I can't ever promise that I'll come home safely."

"I know you can't..."

"So you shouldn't have to live with that..." The next words break him, but he knows that they need to be said. "It's not too late to...end it...before..._" _

There's a thick silence, until:

"You are so stupid!" Elizabeth bursts out.

"Excuse me?" he defends. "I was trying to give you a way out!"

"And that's why you're stupid," she replies, rolling her eyes at him. "I didn't mean that I wanted out, Carlton. I've known that I've had this fear for forever, and I've always known that you have a dangerous job. Yes, it scares me. But if there is one thing in this world that I _don't_ want, it's a way out."

"You shouldn't have to be scared. Dammit, it kills me, but I _want _you to be happy."

"Well, I'm in love with you. I'm not leaving, I don't want to, and you can still have what you want. Because I am happy – with you."

"But -"

She sighs and places a hand on his shoulder again; this time he doesn't shy away from her. "It wouldn't matter what job you have, Carlton. People die every day. Car accidents, sickness, or being struck by damn lightning. I would always worry. But it doesn't matter now. I love you, and I'm not going to let a little fear get in the way of _us." _

He exhales slowly, trying to release the tension from his body. "Are you sure?" he ask, because he has to. He just does.

She smiles. "I'm absolutely sure. I am not looking for a way out, and I hope you aren't, either."

"I'm not!" he says, shocked and horrified by the implication. "I love you!"

She laughs slightly. "Well, I should hope so by now. I love you, too...and I'm not going _anywhere_."

Looking back into her eyes, he can't help but feel overwhelmed by her. He doesn't know how she always says the right thing, always calms him down, always reassures him every time he dares to think that this perfect dream has been too good to be true. He can't help himself; he pulls her into a kiss, deep and desperate. Her lips press hard against his, and she giggles slightly as he pushes her gently back down against the bed.

He can't get enough of her, not now, not ever. He kisses her neck and cheek and collarbone, and her hands around his neck are his reassurance.

He can't predict the future, and he doesn't want to try.

Because for this morning, at the very least, right now is enough.

**A/N: Okay, so a couple points about this one. First off, Lassiter's fear of pitch black dark is actually my own fear. Not only that, I think it fits him really well, because it is both literal (people attacking the detective when he can't see) and figurative (events beyond his control that he doesn't see coming). Secondly, I have mixed feelings about Lassiter freaking out and trying to push her away. I'm not sure if he'd be so direct about it, but I'm going to say this is something he's learned in the new relationship – that he just needs to say whatever needs to be said to get it out there. And lastly, I've come to the conclusion that I am indeed in love with the idea of being in love... **


	12. The Ex

**Chapter Twelve: The Ex**

They're stepping out into the lobby of the theater when it happens. One second, they're laughing at the bad movie, holding hands and enjoying the moment like teenagers, and the next, she's bumping into the man – the couple – walking into the theater.

Which would have been no big deal if Elizabeth hadn't looked up to apologize, and then stood frozen like a deer caught in headlights.

Carlton immediately notes her sudden change in mood. She stiffens slightly, and he looks back at the man she had bumped into. It's then that he realizes that the man has a similar _oh-crap_ expression on his face.

"Elizabeth? What a coincidence..." says the man. "How...nice to see you." To Carlton, it's obvious that the man doesn't mean it at all. What he really means is that he'd rather be anywhere else.

"Hi, Richard." answers Elizabeth.

And now it's Carlton's turn to tense up. The name is familiar and wholly unwelcome to him.

Richard, her ex-husband.

And there's an anger spiraling uncomfortably in the pit of Carlton's stomach. It wasn't like the time with Alan, where it was anger based off of insecurities and jealousy. No, this is different.

Although Elizabeth hadn't mentioned him often, Carlton has heard enough about this man to hate him.

For hurting her the way he did.

But the guy doesn't even have the good grace or common sense to walk on with a simple hello; no, he feels the need to drag it out awkwardly. "How are you?" asks Richard.

Carlton feels the stare of the blonde at Richard's side; she's scrutinizing him, he knows.

He ignores it, and instead focuses on reassuring Elizabeth. He squeezes her hand slightly, and she squeezes back, then finally manages a smile.

"I'm great, Richard." she says. And she sounds sincere. "And you?"

"Good."

Elizabeth nods. "Okay, well, hope you enjoy your movie..."

"Thanks." he says, looking grateful for an easy out. "See you around..."

"Uh-huh."

Carlton and Elizabeth let them pass, and then they walk out of the lobby and into the parking lot together.

"How are you doing?" asks Carlton softly, keeping hold of her hand.

She looks over at him. His expression is concerned and caring, hers is contemplative. "I can't pretend that I wish that we wouldn't have seen him..." Elizabeth says.

"You and me both...not really a looker, is he? Glad your taste got better." Carlton tries to joke.

She smirks slightly, then turns serious. "Carlton..."

"Hmm?"

"I've ran into him a few times in the past two years, since the divorce..."

Carlton tenses, not sure where she's headed with this conversation. "And every time, it has hurt to see him. Especially when he's with..._her._"

Carlton feels the dread in the pit of his stomach; his mind is racing with a thousand possibilities of what she is trying to say. Is she still in love with him? Was she jealous of the blonde at Richard's side?

"But I want you to know something," she continues. "Tonight, for the first time, it didn't hurt to see him."

"Really?" Carlton questions, more with curiosity than with disbelief. "Because you looked a little – "

"Well, I was shocked to run into him, and uncomfortable...but it didn't _hurt. _I didn't care about...the past."

She pauses for a long moment. "Because of you."

Carlton lets the words sink in. He doesn't know what to say, exactly. He only knows that he feels grateful to be the one at her side now.

After walking in silence for a few long moments, they finally reach the car. He opens her door for her, then walks around the car and gets into the driver's seat. Once he starts the car, he finally knows what he wants to say, and how he wants to say it.

"You know, there's only one reason I didn't punch him in the stomach tonight..."

Elizabeth smirks. "Because I would have killed you for acting like an idiot?"

Carlton smiles. "No, surprisingly enough. Even though I would have liked to...I couldn't because I owe him one."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I owe him big time."

Elizabeth rolls her eyes. "Are you really not gonna explain this one, Captain Cryptic?"

Carlton makes sure to look into her eyes, so that she can see his sincerity. "I owe him for being stupid enough to push you away and let you go. If he hadn't been such a jerk, you wouldn't be with _me_ now."

Elizabeth smiles warmly at him. "Have I mentioned lately that I love you?"

He smirks. "Nope. I don't even think you've ever said that to me before..." he jokes. "I definitely don't remember it."

Elizabeth hits her head with her hand dramatically. "Silly me!" she says, a smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. "Well, Carlton Lassiter, let me say it now. I. Love. You."

Carlton's smile widens. "I love you, too."

As he pulls out of the parking lot and onto the street, Carlton can't help but think that he should send that jackass Richard a thank you card.

**A/N: When he's happy, Lassie really lightens up. Or so I like to think. ;) **


	13. Without A Call

**Chapter Thirteen: Without a Call**

**A/N: Less fluff and more fighting...so enjoy. :P **

She's late from work by a half hour. They were supposed to have an evening in, with take-out and movies, and now she's a half hour late with no phone call. Not even a quick text message as an explanation.

He eats his food as hers gets cold.

At first he's calm, then angry, then worried.

He's half past worried and well on his way to near-panic level by the time she gets in. She's almost never late, and he had been imagining all sorts of horrible possibilities. His cop experience had given him too much to be afraid of – what if something happened to her? What if someone...?

Elizabeth comes home at 6:47 and his relief is immediate.

But she's half-smiling as if it was no big deal, the hell she just put him through, and the anger comes as it hasn't in a long time.

"Sorry I'm late," she says casually.

"Where were you?" he demands, and she looks taken aback by his icy tone.

And then she matches it, making her own voice sharp and cutting. "Our meeting ran over."

He tries not to sound so accusatory, but it doesn't quite work. "And you couldn't call me?"

"First off, we were in a _meeting_. Secondly, – "

"You could have sent a text," he interrupts.

"Secondly, my phone was dead. I forgot to charge it last night."

He's left in silence and is almost ashamed of his behavior, but then he remembers how worried he had been. And he's not ready to let go of that just yet. The images replay in his head: car crashes or crazy murderers, ambulances and hospitals...

He had just been about ready to scour the streets for her.

"Next time, borrow someone's phone." he says, and he steps past her and grabs his coat off the coat rack. He's too angry to stay here; he knows he will just say something he'll regret. The evening seems ruined, anyway. "Your food got cold so I just put it in the fridge." He shrugs into his jacket.

"You're leaving?" Elizabeth asks, and for the first time tonight, there's hurt in her voice instead of just anger.

He avoids her eyes. "Yeah. I just...can't do this right now."

And he feels bad about this, really he does, but not enough to be able to stay. And she doesn't try to make him, he notices.

The evening air is cool and fresh when he steps outside, and he keeps the car window open on the ride home. It should calm him, but it doesn't.

Carlton returns to an empty apartment. He puts on the television to bring some sound into the uncomfortably quiet living room, but he doesn't really watch it. The anger bubbles in the pit of his stomach. _How would she feel if I didn't call? She'd be pissed too._

It takes about thirty minutes for him to begin to think that maybe, just maybe, he overreacted.

He stews on that possibility for awhile. He shouldn't have gotten so angry. _Her phone was dead; it wasn't her fault._

But then again, he'd been so afraid for her, thinking about crime scenes and all the different ways she could be hurt...s_he still should have tried to text me_ _from someone else's phone_.

And the conclusion: _But I didn't have to leave..._

He can't stand this.

Carlton grabs his cell phone from off the coffee table and is about to call her when he realizes that he doesn't know what to say. He's never been good at apologies, and he's sure his ex-wife would attest to that fact. Back when he used to try to apologize to Victoria, he was always drawn into another argument somehow, even when it was the last thing he wanted.

And he doesn't want it to end that way now.

He opts for an easier way out, even if it_ is _the coward's way.

For such a short message, it takes awhile for him to compose it. _Hey Liz...sorry for overreacting but i was worried. thought something happened to you. But i shouldn't have left like i did. I'm sorry._

He hits the send button before he can regret it.

It takes her only a minute to reply. _I didnt mean to make you worry. Call me?_

Carlton sends her one last response consisting of _"ok" _before calling her.

She answers in less than one ring. "Hey," she says. Her voice is soft and calm. He doesn't think she's mad anymore, and he hopes this means that they won't somehow pull each other into another fight.

He breathes in deep. They will be okay. "Hey."

**A/N: He walked out because even though he's in a healthy relationship now, he still doesn't really know how to handle fights. Or at least that's how I saw it when I wrote it, haha. And I didn't go into detail about the fight resolution because I wanted it to be open-ended; they do work it out, but maybe not right away, and what they say is entirely up to your imagination now. Reviews keep me going. ;) **


	14. Bouquet

**A/N: I'm in school now, and have a lot less time to update and write. I'm going to keep this story up the best I can though. The next chapter is already written, and a couple more are vaguely planned. Thank you everyone for reading up to this point, and I'll update as best I can. Story-wise, we are getting closer and closer to some big events, because a lot of time has passed since Carlton and Elizabeth first started dating. You can do the math for that. :P **

**Chapter Fourteen: Bouquet  
**

It's easiest if they make it a weekend affair, considering the fact that the wedding is scheduled for early Sunday morning, and they have to travel a good distance to Arizona beforehand. Carlton's not thrilled by the idea, but the drive turns out to be better than expected. Calming and comfortable, with Elizabeth in the passenger's seat.

He meets her whole family over the Saturday rehearsal dinner. He had been nervous, but he shouldn't have worried. All the women hug him like he's already part of the family, and Elizabeth's father and brothers shake his hand. Somewhat to his surprise, they all seem to actually _like _him. He is still grateful, however, when there is much planning and finalizing left to do. He gets shunted happily into the background; he watches everything unfold as a casual observer. Matters of flowers and the cake, picking up dresses and suits, confirmations of all sorts...he watches it all.

That first day is a long one, and when it's over, Carlton and Elizabeth retreat to their hotel as night hits.

After they both shower, they collapse onto fluffy pillows and sheets.

"My family likes you," Elizabeth says casually.

Carlton grunts out a tired reply. "Even Alex?" he says, referring to her older brother. While Alex seemed to like him well enough, Carlton did notice that he'd offered the most resistance to him – even if it was subtle and slight.

"Ah, well, Alex has always been overprotective of me. And he's gotten a bit worse ever since Richard..." she trails off for a moment, then manages a recovery. "Well, he never liked him anyway. I can already tell that he likes you way better than he liked Richard, though, even in the beginning."

"Really?"

"Mhm," she replies into her pillow. She's already falling asleep, and he is too, as a matter of fact.

He reaches over and turns off the last remaining lamp. He wraps an arm over Elizabeth and yawns. _Trip was worth it, _he thinks, just before falling asleep.

* * *

The morning is a rush of activity. The women get their hair done and Mr. Henson checks in with the caterer and the photographer. Carlton tries to find something to do, but mostly he just waits around while everyone bustles and bothers. And then there is dressing up and a mad search for keys and driving to the church, and before he knows it, he's sitting by some of Elizabeth's family members and watching as the wedding procession begins. Elizabeth's in the wedding party – Maid of Honor - so he waits patiently.

And then she's there, holding onto the arm of Ethan's brother as they walk down the aisle together. And she's _glowing._

_Radiant_, he thinks, and her dress...

Lavender and perfect.

Carlton might be a little jealous of Ethan's brother if Elizabeth didn't catch _his_ eye in the crowd and smile that smile of hers.

He smiles back, and it's stupid and cliché, but he thinks that maybe his heart really did just skip a little bit.

He watches as she takes her place at the front of the church, watches her move a strand of hair self-consciously away from her eyes. And then her sister comes down the aisle, and Elizabeth beams as if she's never been happier. And Carlton knows he should probably be watching the bride, but he can't seem to keep his eyes away from Elizabeth for any extended length of time.

The ceremony is beautiful and traditional and exactly what it should be.

The "I dos" are sweet, the kiss perfection. And Mrs. Henson is crying into a handkerchief and even Mr. Henson seems to be tearing up.

Carlton wants to laugh, but he doesn't. He just smirks, shakes his head, and thinks, _nothing quite like a wedding..._

The ceremony ends without incident, and then everyone heads over to the reception hall. There is much flurry of activity when the party arrives: a large catered lunch with lines and cake and cameras flashing all at once. Elizabeth pulls him into a few pictures and he allows it only because she looks so thrilled to just be here...and he could never say no when she's smiling at him like_ that_.

There's music, too.

"May I have this dance?" Elizabeth asks, holding out her hand to pull him onto the dance floor.

And it almost feels like a dream, because since when did he get this lucky, to be asked to dance by a beautiful woman that wants him back?

He takes her hand and they make their way onto the dance floor. Her arms go around his neck, and Carlton pulls her close to him. He can't help but think that this level of happiness should not exist in the world.

"You look beautiful, Liz."

"Thank you, Carlton. For...everything," she says, resting her head against his chest. He isn't exactly sure what she's thanking _him _for, because what has he given her that she hasn't given back tenfold? But he allows it without question and keeps dancing contently with her in his arms.

The song ends after a couple minutes, and then a much faster one begins.

She raises her eyebrows at him with the hopeful question.

He shakes his head resolutely. "Absolutely not."

"Fair enough."

They sit out a few dances. They eat lunch and cake and drink some wine. There are toasts and laughter, and they take it all in. Together.

The party winds down after a couple of hours. The newlyweds are almost ready to leave, but there's still two things left to do - the garter and bouquet tosses.

The crowd gathers to watch as Ethan removes the garter from Sara amidst laughter and appreciative hoots. Carlton gets shoved into the line of unmarried men just as Ethan turns away and flings the garment over his shoulder.

Carlton watches it come in his direction, but not close enough for a direct hit. It lands, instead, in the hands of Elizabeth's younger brother. Nick looks down at the item in surprise, then shakes his head incredulously. He catches Carlton's eye and gestures to the garter. "Um, no. This isn't gonna happen anytime soon."

Nick tries to hand it to Carlton, but the detective just smirks and pushes it back to him. "Nice try."

The bouquet toss comes last, and somehow, Carlton knows what will happen before it does.

Sara turns and tosses the bouquet over her shoulder, into the waiting crowd of unmarried women. It lands perfectly in Elizabeth's arms.

There is clapping and laughter and Nick pounds Carlton's back in an enthusiastic, friendly gesture. "Well, that worked out nicely." he smirks.

Elizabeth catches Carlton's eye, bouquet still in hand. She smiles and shrugs, as if to say, _well, how about that?_

Carlton smiles, shrugs back, and thinks the same thing. _Well, how about that?_

**A/N: Reviews are love. ;) **_  
_


	15. Years

**A/N: This is sort of a filler chapter, but at least I'm updating, right? **

**Chapter Fifteen: Years**

It's been one year, and he's in love.

One year exactly from that first blind date.

Before that evening, Carlton had been anxious and lonely, angry and still recovering from a lost marriage.

A lot has changed in just one year.

This is what Carlton thinks as they sit in that very same restaurant as their first date, as she talks with him and laughs with him and smiles.

He likes it best when she smiles.

It's their one year anniversary and they're back where they began, but everything is different.

He's no longer lonely (most of his stuff is at her place now, and his apartment is starting to look empty).

He's no longer angry (sure, he can still yell up a storm, but O'Hara will be the first to tell rookies that he doesn't do it as much...sort of).

Most importantly, he's happy now. It had been a long time since he'd been happy, before Elizabeth came into his life.

It's been one year.

"Carlton?"

He snaps back to the present and wonders if he missed something important. "Uh, yeah?"

She rolls her eyes, but goodnaturedly and with a smile. "I said,_ I love you_. What were you thinking about?"

_Just thinking that I hope all the years to come are as good as this one, _he thinks to himself.

But what he says is, "I was just thinking that I love you, too."

And he smiles.


	16. Thank God For Partners

**Chapter Sixteen: Thank God for Partners**

He stands awkwardly at her desk as the end of the work day comes closer, and she's hit by an intense feeling of deja vu.

"Yes, Carlton?" she asks.

_Have we done this before?_

"O'Hara, could you...?"

She waits and he doesn't continue, and that's when she remembers.

_We have done this!_

The last time was when Carlton needed help picking out Elizabeth's birthday gift. Juliet examines her partner's face contemplatively, wondering if something similar is going on now. His eyes are anxious and almost helpless. And she thinks about the past two weeks, about the wedding he went to with Elizabeth this past month, and the way he's been acting lately and something just _clicks._

She knows what he's going to say before he has a chance to say it. She stands and hugs him without a word; she's smiling too much to say anything at all.

When she lets go, Lassiter looks mildly stunned. "What was _that_ for?" he asks.

"You're going to propose to Elizabeth," she says matter-of-factly, still grinning from ear to ear.

The shock that registers on his face is completely comical, at least from Juliet's perspective._ If he ever believes in psychics, _Juliet muses, _it won't be because of Shawn. It'll be because of this moment just now._

"How in the hell could you know that?" he demands.

She shrugs. "You just had that look on your face."

Lassiter scowls at her. "I do not have an _I'm-going-to-propose _look. I don't think anyone does, except maybe Ross Gellar."

Juliet raises an eyebrow. "Did you just make a _Friends _reference?"

"What, I can't watch television too?"

She could make a retort about how she'd never pegged him for a _Friends _fan, but she figures they've already gotten enough off-topic for one afternoon. She shakes her head and backtracks. "So you're proposing to Elizabeth. Congratulations," she says, and she smiles again.

"Yeah, about that..."

He hesitates.

"Carlton, just _say _whatever you're trying to say..."

He sighs and jams his hands into his pockets. He looks lanky and awkward and Juliet holds back a laugh. "I have no _idea _what I'm doing," he admits wearily.

It's one of those rare instances in which Juliet doesn't think before she speaks. "But haven't you done this before?" She regrets the words as soon as they're out of her mouth. "Sorry," she mumbles at the slightly hurt look on his face, and then she attempts to smooth it over. "But what are you having problems with? Picking a ring?"

He lets the slightly thoughtless question pass without comment (God knows he's had enough of those that it's only fair for her to be allowed a few slip-ups too) and grabs gratefully at the new topic. "It's not just the ring. It's _everything. _I mean, should I ask her father for permission? And if I do, can I do it over the phone or do I actually have to go _see _him? And if I'm going to Arizona, how do I do that without Elizabeth knowing? And where should I get the ring, and when and where should I propose, and what should I say?"

The ridiculous stream of questions makes Juliet laugh. Nervous-In-Love Lassiter is just priceless to behold.

_This is going to be fun, _she thinks.

But to Lassiter, she just smiles and says, "One thing at a time, Carlton."

"But you'll help me?" he questions, sounding unnaturally anxious.

"Of course, Partner. That's what I'm here for."

"Thank God."

**A/N: The line where Lassiter asks if he can't watch television too is a call-back to his line in A Very Juliet Episode about watching Grease. I'm not sure why I gave Juliet a thoughtless moment, except it seemed like the most natural thing for her to say. But yay for proposals! ;) **


	17. A Process To This Proposal Business

**There's A Process To This Whole Proposal-Business**

**A/N: Sorry for the wait. But I am back, and this new chapter is pretty long and exciting. At least in my humble opinion. :) **

**Step One: Enlist a helper.**

It's an intimidating idea, so much so that the mere thought makes him sweat. He won't admit that he's afraid to do this, won't admit that he's afraid to ask for this one thing that he wants, needs, so badly.

In truth, he'd rather face trained assassins armed with heavy artillery than have to do _this._

The idea of physical injury and even death is easier to face than the thought of this..._vulnerability._

Sure, they've talked about marriage, and how they'd both like to try again someday. But how can he be sure that the right time is now? How can he be sure that they're both ready for it, that she's ready for it? How can he be sure that she'll want her second chance to be with him?

_What if, what if, what if she says no?_

It's a mistake to mention this question to his partner, however casually.

"Carlton, calm down. She's not going to say no."

"How would _you _know?"

"Just trust me."

"But how could you know that?"

She rolls her eyes. "Look, you're never going to find out if you don't try."

"So you admit, it is possible that she might say no!"

"Carlton, don't be a coward. Man up, for God's sake."

Carlton glares at her. He may be many things, but _coward i_s not one of them.

Her smile is victorious; it's obvious that she knows that she pushed just the right button. Then she softens slightly, "Carlton, I'm here to help you with everything. You love her, right?"

"Yes."

"And she loves you."

He can't deny it.

"Then the hardest part's over," she smirks.

Carlton sighs.

For better or worse, Juliet O'Hara is going to see him through this to the very end.

**Step Two: Find the perfect ring.**

They spend hours, over the course of several days, looking at rings together, searching for the right one. Carlton insists that this one is too plain, Juliet insists that that one is too gaudy. Too expensive for his budget, too cheap for someone special. Wrong, wrong, wrong. Just wrong.

Carlton is the first one to see it, but Juliet's eyes catch on it only a moment later.

"This is the one," says Carlton with an unprecedented amount of conviction.

He's absolutely enamored by it, Juliet can tell. And she can hear his certainty, and that's good enough for her.

"It's a beautiful ring," she agrees. "A little pricey, but -"

"That doesn't matter. It's perfect."

**Step Three: Make sure you're on good terms with the prospective in-laws.**

Juliet coerces him into a phone conversation with Mr. Henson.

"You don't really have to ask for permission, Carlton. I mean, you've both been married before so it's a little past that time. But you should just tell him what your plans are, your intentions with his daughter. Just keep him reassured, you know?"

"Uh...sure."

"Just do it."

He'd found Mr. Henson's number in Elizabeth's list of contacts on her cell phone, and saved it into his own without her knowledge.

Now he's got his phone to his ear and is listening as the other end rings, once, twice, three times.

"Hello?" answers the familiar voice.

"Uh, hello. Mr. Henson?"

"Yes?"

"This is Carlton..."

"Elizabeth's Carlton?"

"Yes."

"Hmm...let me guess. You want to marry my daughter."

Lassiter chokes on air. How could he possibly know that?

Like a mind-reader, Mr. Henson answers the unspoken question. "It was your voice, son. Nervous and whatnot. It gave you away."

Lassiter coughs awkwardly. "Yeah, well, you're right. I...I want to marry Elizabeth." He's not sure what else to say. God, he feels like a teenager compared to this man, a punk kid asking permission to take his daughter out on a date. "I just, I mean, I love her and I want to be with her and make it off-"

"Carlton, let me get a word in, okay?"

"Okay."

"It's nice for you to call. I really appreciate it. And I just want to say, I know how happy Elizabeth is with you...and for that, I'd be proud to have you as a son-in-law."

His relief is entirely overwhelming.

"Thank you, sir." It's all he can manage to get out.

"I know you'll look after her, Carlton. Mostly because if you don't, I'll come visit you myself. And, well, I'm not threatening an officer of the law or anything, but you should just know, I like to take my gun when I travel."

Carlton smiles slightly. "I understand."

"Good. And Carlton? Welcome to the family."

Mr. Henson hangs up right after that, and Carlton can't help but continue to smile into the receiver.

He hadn't asked for it, and didn't necessarily_ need_ it, but he got the permission anyway.

And it's nice to feel not only accepted, but _welcomed. _

**Step Four: Wait, what's step four again? **

Now he has the ring in his pocket and the pressure of others knowing; what he lacks is the right words and the perfect moment.

It's weighty, that ring.

Keeping it in his pocket, always. Probably a bad idea. He could lose it, but what if the perfect moment comes and he misses it?

A week passes and sometimes, when they're alone together and she smiles at him, just smiles, he wants to do it. He wants to get down on one knee and ask for everything.

Sometimes, when she visits him during lunch and reminds him that his bad day is not _so_ bad, he wants to pull that little ring box out and show her. And tell her. In front of the entire station.

And sometimes, just sometimes, he stares off into space while he's with her. He distracts himself as he tries to come up with the right words, the perfect words...

Of course, she notices.

"Carlton? Honey? Anybody in there?"

He comes back to himself, back to the present. She's sitting across the table and their dinner is almost finished and it would be so easy, in the privacy of her home, to ask...

"Oh, sorry."

"Hey, is everything okay?" Elizabeth asks. She sounds worried. "You've been acting a little off lately. Is there something we need to...talk about?"

And he sees it. Some insecurity. She thinks something is wrong.

He has to do this soon or it'll drive them both crazy.

But...not tonight.

Tonight, he'll just reassure her.

Her hand is resting on the table, and he reaches over and takes it in his own.

"Oh, no. Nothing is wrong, Liz. I was just thinking...it's been awhile since we've gone shooting together. What do you say we go out tomorrow and get some target practice?"

She smiles. "Sure, Carlton. Sounds great to me."

**A/N: Surely you can see where this is going. :P Oh, it feels good to be back with Carlton and Elizabeth. I missed them. Next chapter should not take nearly as long as this one did. I have a plan. Reviews are love, my friends. **


	18. The Moment, The Question, The Answer

**A/N: There are no good excuses. I've had time to write, just no will. But here it is. The BIG ONE. I hope it makes up for the delay. **

That morning, he wakes up with a definite sense of purpose.

He gets up without delay, without wishing he could stay in bed for just a few more minutes. He dresses at a steady pace as he watches her sleep. She won't leave for work for another hour, and he wants to wake her, but he doesn't. He lets her sleep, but he kisses her cheek before heading out.

Today, he knows with calm certainty, will be the day.

At work, he interrogates three suspects. Two of them confess within ten minutes. The third suspect cracks within five.

McNab congratulates him on a job well done, but Carlton just nods and waves it away. "All in a day's work," he says.

Over lunch, he discusses the Sorenson case with his partner. An hour later, they find evidence incriminating the brother-in-law, who is promptly brought in for questioning. Spencer is present at the time, and may or may not have helped with that one (Lassiter won't freely admit this).

When Carlton gets home from work, he showers and dresses nicely. He checks his gun, grabs a few boxes of ammunition as well as a few target sheets from his closet.

He's ready for anything.

Ready to set out on a do-or-die mission.

The ring in his pocket urges him onward.

He arrives at her place early and lets himself in. "Liz?" he calls out.

"Coming!" she calls back, and a moment later, she's hurrying towards him.

She has her gun, holstered, in one hand and a purse slung across her other shoulder. She gives him a quick kiss in greeting. It takes all his willpower not to lengthen the moment and forget the plan altogether.

But she breaks away and he lets her. "I feel so nervous, for some reason," she says. He raises an eyebrow at the admission. "But in a good way," she amends. "Excited nervous."

She doesn't know. She couldn't know. But is the feeling in the atmosphere? He thinks it just might be, and it's contagious. He smiles at her and nods towards the door. His voice, uncharacteristically soft. "Come on, I don't want to be late."

They walk out together and she questions him. "Late? Do you think the station will just up and leave us?" she jokes.

They reach his car and he doesn't answer until they're both inside it. He busies himself with his seat belt. "Actually, I was thinking we could try the public range this time. If you don't mind a little bit more of a drive?"

She looks at him with mild surprise. "Sure, Carlton, but that's unexpected."

"I know," he says, and he can't keep the slight teasing out of his voice.

She gives him an appraising look, but he can't meet her eye now if he's going to keep his poker face. He concentrates on the road instead.

"Well, okay," she says finally. "But we'll need some music if the ride is longer." She reaches for the radio dial, and music fills up the car before he can even reply.

As they drive, she hums along to song after song, sometimes even going as far as to sing under her breath, and he can't help but think that it's never been more easy to be in love with her.

* * *

The public shooting range is exactly as he remembers it. Secluded and hilly, not exactly beautiful, but the evening is nice and at least they're alone together.

He parks the car on the dirt of the range, a little off to the side. When they get out of the car, he sets up a few targets along the provided line while Elizabeth checks her gun and loads it. He joins her after a few minutes, removes his weapon from its holster and takes some ear plugs out of their packaging.

Elizabeth leans against the car and smiles challengingly. "Up for a little game of HORSE, Detective?"

Carlton smirks. "You're on."

It was an SBPD game he'd taught her a few months back. It was essentially a rip-off of the version of basketball called HORSE. First shooter picks a spot to shoot from, fires, and the second shooter must then shoot from the same position and try to get within three inches (although it was generally by rough estimation rather than actual measuring) of the first shot. If the second person failed to get close enough, they'd get a letter, and the first one to spell HORSE would lose.

They were pretty evenly matched – he had won the last two times, but it had always been close.

Today, the game starts off simple and slow. She goes first and chooses a straight shot from a slight distance. The bullet rips through the shoulder of the target figure.

Carlton takes her places and matches the shot easily, his bullet hole practically overlapping with hers.

"I knew I should have tried something more difficult."

"Agreed. What were you thinking?" he asks, smirking.

Then he picks a new, slightly awkward angle to shoot from and when they're both ready, he pulls the trigger four times in quick succession, changing his aim slightly with each shot. The bullets rip through the target, creating a "Z" pattern upon the black paper.

"You have to do it as fast as I did, too," he reminds her.

"Easy."

And she's right; she matches the pattern quickly and efficiently, as if it's no challenge at all.

The game continues for awhile. Shots aimed shootout style from behind his parked car. Shots aimed at an old aluminum can they found along the hill.

"Big shot Detective? I expect more from you," she teases after awhile.

He rolls his eyes. "You do realize I'm winning, right?"

"By one letter. And _I'm_ just a civilian."

They increase the distance of their shots and focus on hitting very precise marks on the target. _Our shots are practically sniper-worthy now_, he thinks with amusement.

Lassiter stops in the middle of the game and heads towards the target. He pulls a pen from his pocket and marks the sheet with a small "x". Then he returns to his position, very, very far from the target.

His aim is careful, precise.

The shot rings out, and it's perfect. The "x" is gone, replace by a perfect round hole in its place.

"Top that," he tells her.

Turns out, she can't. The distance is too great and the shot goes off mark, by about five inches.

"Looks like I win," he says. He turns his gun's safety on and dramatically puts it back into his hip holster.

She does the same, but then she smirks defiantly. "You don't win. That was for S."

"You already got an S for missing the can, remember?"

She moves forward towards him, slow and predatory, but playfulness is sparking in her eyes. She reaches him and her hands goes to his chest. He raises an eyebrow and she shoves him lightly. He steps back, and now he's trapped between his car and Elizabeth. Not a bad place to be, actually. "You're a sore loser," he smirks.

She leans in close to his face, and her hands are on his chest again. "Take it back," she whispers.

"Make me," he breathes out.

And then she's kissing him, and he's kissing her back, and thank God no one else is around. It would be highly inappropriate for public eyes.

She shifts slightly and the ring box in his jacket pocket presses against his side.

Carlton had been so lost in the moment, so lost in being kissed by _her, _he'd practically forgotten why he'd brought her here.

Between long kisses, he glances toward the horizon.

Exactly what he wanted, exactly what he didn't want to miss.

The sunset.

He couldn't have asked for a better one, either. The horizon is fiery orange and smeared with a sharp pink.

Carlton breaks away slightly and nods towards the setting sun. "Liz, look."

She turns to see. She smiles softly and stands beside him. They both lean back against his car to watch the slow downward progression of the sun in the sky.

"It's beautiful," she sighs, and she takes his hand, as if to share the moment with him in some concrete way.

That's it, that's all the encouragement he needs. All he could ever want.

He reaches into his pocket with his other hand, holds onto the box for one moment, and then he breathes in deeply and kneels down onto one knee.

The box is out now, and he lets go of her hand to open it.

Her eyes find his, and her first instances of shock are replaced by some emotion that looks like joy.

He opens the ring box, and she's tearing up before he can even get the first word out. "Liz, you know I'm not the best with words so I'm just going to say the parts that really matter, alright? I love you so much. You make me happy. Everyone knows you do. I _love_ you. And...will you marry me?"

She doesn't reply with words. Instead, she reaches for his hand and pulls him to his feet. She's kissing him again, and he's dazed by it, not to mention confused. _Wait, did she answer, _he wonders, panicking slightly.

Then she breaks the kiss, rests her forehead against his, and smiles. "I love you, Carlton," she whispers. "And yes, I will marry you. Of course I will."

He smiles and looks down at the ring box which had momentarily been forgotten, held loosely in his hand. Now he focuses his full attention on that little piece of jewelry that means so much. He pulls the ring out carefully, and she gives him her hand without question.

He sighs contently as he places the ring gently onto her finger.

It looks perfect on her hand.

He knew it would.


	19. Text Messages, Beers, and Secret Toasts

**A/N: Set directly after the last chapter, because of course there needed to be a reaction chapter for the rest of the gang. This one even has a smidgeon of Shules, since it's set after they've started dating. **

**Of Text Messages, Beers, and Secret Toasts**

Somewhere between heated kissing, feelings of love, and the ride home, Lassiter had the common sense to shoot off a quick text message which simply read: _She said yes._

Carlton could imagine Juliet, at her place, reading the message and squealing like a little girl, smiling like an idiot, not at all professional. Probably wanting so badly to call him, but restraining herself because she knows not to ruin the moment. He'd call her eventually and give her more details (she'd make him), but right now...he was busy.

He let his imagination waiver and return to the reality of arriving back at Elizabeth's place. There were clumsy half-sprints to Elizabeth's front door and the sound of her laughter, the feeling of her hand grabbing onto his in order to lead him to the bedroom.

Juliet, meanwhile, was doing exactly as Lassiter had imagined. She had squealed upon reading the message, beamed, teared up, and called Shawn. In that order.

"Shawn!" she exclaims in greeting. "He did it! Lassiter did it!"

Shawn, who is at his Dad's place and just about ready to eat, reaches for the plate of corn-on-the-cob directly to his left. His concern for Lassiter's affairs is limited by the nagging hunger in his stomach. But Gus slaps his hand away from potential sustenance, and Shawn sighs in resignation. "What did Lassie do, Jules?" he asks. "Did he finally buy a new, not atrociously ugly tie?"

"Elizabeth said yes."

"To wh- oh." Shawn pauses, caught a little off guard. This. Is. News. This is _something._

Finally, he manages to regain the ability to speak. "I always knew she was crazy," he jokes, but there's a fondness in his voice that Juliet detects. And that's how she knows that Shawn is just as happy for her partner as _she _is.

"Listen, Shawn, I'm going to call the Chief. She'll want to know."

"Did he give you permission to tell _everyone_?"

"Let's say that he did," she laughs.

"Love you, Jules." says Shawn sweetly.

"Love you too," she replies, and with a quick goodbye, she's gone from the line.

Shawn slips the cell phone back into his pocket, then looks up to face his dad and Gus's questioning stares; they can tell something has happened.

"Who's crazy?" asks Gus curiously.

Shawn rolls his eyes and feigns a scowl. "Elizabeth," he starts slowly, "said yes to dear Lassie. _Our Lassie." _

Gus sputters. "He proposed?"

"Yes."

"And she said yes?" asks Henry.

"Right," affirms Shawn.

For a second, there's nothing but raised eyebrows and incredulous stares. None of them are quite used to change, and it had been enough of a shock when Lassiter had become more...happy...a little over a year ago, when he met Elizabeth. Now he's going to be happily _married. _

Finally, Henry recovers. He sets his dinner plate on the table and then opens the fridge. He pulls out three beers and passes one each to Shawn and Gus, but keeps the third for himself.

Now there's something celebratory in the atmosphere, and without quite intending it, they're becoming a party unto themselves.

"To Lassie," says Shawn, holding up his bottle suddenly, something like mischievous pride sparkling in his eyes. "May he never know that we toasted him."

"I hear that," says Henry, before he can stop himself. Shawn and Gus look at him in mild concern, but they shake it off with a long swig of beer.

After a moment, Shawn grins over at his best friend. "Hey, do you think Lassie will let me give him the Bachelor Party?"

"Over his dead body, maybe." says Gus, taking a small bite of his food. "Or yours."

"So what are you saying, no best man spot for me?" whines Shawn.

Gus swallows, then smirks. "Not in this lifetime, Buddy."

**A/N: Reviews much appreciated! **


	20. Fortune Cookies Really Do Come True!

**A/N: Sorry for the delay, once again. But it's summer now and so I will be trying my best to get the creative juices flowing and hammer out more chapters (while still making sure they're well-written). I don't want to leave this story as a WIP, so I'm going to work out an outline and find a great place to end it (but no worries, I still have quite a few chapters in mind before **_**that **_**happens.)**

**Chapter Twenty: Fortune Cookies Really Do Come True!**

He walks into the station that next morning to a round of applause.

Lassiter rolls his eyes. He'd told one person, just one! Of course, it was O'Hara and the news was an engagement, so he guesses he shouldn't be surprised.

O'Hara herself is smiling at him from her desk, then joining him on his walk to the break room. "Hey, Carlton. Have a good night?" she asks.

Lassiter nods. "Great night, actually."

"I bet."

Lassiter ignores the implication and her knowing grin, and instead sips his coffee. "By the way, we just got a call about a DB in an apartment on 6th. Gotta be there ASAP," she reports. "So, are you both excited? Did you tell your mother yet?"

Lassiter marvels at the way O'Hara can go from dead bodies to wedding issues with no real transition.

"Not yet," he grumbles. He'd taken Elizabeth to meet his mother a few months ago. It hadn't been a total disaster, which was surprising but...he still isn't looking forward to telling her the news, to which she will surely reply, _"Again, Carlton?"_

He shakes off the thought, walks out of the department with O'Hara in tow.

"Do you think it will be a big wedding? What's Elizabeth have in mind? Ooh, how'd her family take the news? It's going to be here in Santa Barbara, right?"

"O'Hara!" he snaps. "You do realize we became engaged_ last night_, right? We haven't given much thought to wedding plans."

They've reached the parking lot and Lassiter's car, and they get inside the vehicle.

"I'm sorry, Carlton. You're right, completely. I'm just so excited for you!"

"Well, calm it down a bit, O'Hara. We've still got jobs to do."

"Okay, okay. But you're happy, right?"

_Happy? Happy doesn't even cover it. Blissful, ecstatic, complete, fulfilled, in love, rapturous, euphoric. _A thousand words Lassiter never thought he'd use to describe himself run through his head. There is no better feeling in the world, he is sure.

But O'Hara doesn't need to know that.

"Yes, O'Hara. I am very, very happy." he says, and smiles just briefly.

Juliet smiles back, so widely and genuinely that he could almost believe she'd read his mind.


	21. Wedding Planners

**Wedding Planners**

**A/N: Sorry again for the delay, and the shortness of this one. But I'm getting back into writing for this fic, so I'll try and do better next time.**

It's been a long day, complete with an early morning wake-up call and working extra late, but it's evening now and he's using the time to relax. She, on the other hand, has thrown herself into the business of their future wedding. A date hasn't even been set yet, but Elizabeth is already knee-deep in it, as though it's speeding at them with the velocity of a fired bullet.

The thought should make him nervous, but it doesn't. It just makes him happy.

She groans from her place on the floor, pulling him away from his musings.

"Is it bad to say that I kind of hate wedding planning?" she asks, the hint of a whine in her voice. There are brochures for reception venues on the coffee table in front of her, catalogs of flowers and other accessories on the floor and in her lap. He's laying on the couch and flipping through the television channels, but this statement makes him stop and smirk.

"Bad? Not at all. Just another reason we belong together."

She shakes her head and tosses a catalog at him.

The edge of it hits his chin. "Hey!"

"That's what you get, Carlton. You've been great help," she says sarcastically, but she can't help but smile.

"Glad to be of service," he replies easily.

"I forgot how much work planning a wedding could be..."

He yawns. "I know, it really takes a lot out of a person."

Elizabeth sighs wearily. "You know, I'm this close to letting Juliet take complete control."

Carlton's eyes widen as the implication of that statement sinks in. Sure, O'Hara has been a great help in planning and in just being supportive in general, but to give her full reign over _their _wedding ceremony just isn't a good idea. He shudders to think of the pomp and frill, the completely over-the-top result of O'Hara's somewhat repressed romantic nature finally receiving an outlet. It's fine for her wedding, but it just isn't _them. _

Without giving it a second thought, Carlton turns off the television.

He slides himself off the couch and onto the floor beside Elizabeth, letting his long legs stretch out underneath the coffee table.

"So," he starts conversationally. "What exactly do you need help with?"

Elizabeth laughs and drops a pile of brochures into his lap.

**A/N: Reviews greatly appreciated! **


	22. Beginnings

**A/N: I always felt bad about leaving this hanging, and I'm not even entirely sure what happened. I'm sure life and other plot bunnies got in the way, other fandoms, and then they introduced Marlowe, and though I love this OC and relationship I've created, my love and loyalty for canon just sort of took the motivation right out of me. But the new season premiere has just given me more Lassie ideas, and I felt like I needed to get back in his head after a long time away, so I read some old stories – this one included – and knew I just couldn't go without giving it closure. So here it is, the long-time-in-the-making final chapter of my longest series to date. Thanks to all readers and reviewers who come back for this. :)**

**Beginnings**

Time passes in strange ways when you're in love, he thinks.

Because every happy moment lasts a lifetime, and yet collectively they play too fast, like skipping chapters in a story you know by heart.

The wedding day arrives in much this way - too fast and too slow all at once.

Arrangements made and money spent, his tux and a white dress he has yet to see.

They invite as few people as they can get away with, immediate family and a handful of friends each. Spencer crashes (okay, so he actually did invite him but only because he's dating his partner), but manages not to mess anything up too badly.

The ceremony itself has touches of O'Hara (they couldn't say no), but it is still low-key and decidedly them. Elizabeth's father, her brothers, her sister, and her brand new nephew, with bright eyes that look like the future, all in attendance. Hank – his best man, and his mother, actually saying that he chose right this time.

It all happens so fast, and before he knows it, he's standing at the front of the church and waiting for his life to begin.

And then she's there, walking towards him, radiant in white. Beautiful, as always.

"Nice dress," he says quietly as she reaches him, and she winks back.

There are rings and vows. They are both short and sweet: "I still don't know how I got to be so lucky," he says, "But I'm grateful every day that I did. I love you, Elizabeth. And I can't wait to start a lifetime with you."

"Carlton," she says, and she's tearing up now, even though she bet him she wouldn't, "I didn't know what I was looking for, but I'm so glad I found it in you. I deal in words for a living, and yet I can't find ones powerful enough to describe how happy you make me. I love you, more than I can say."

Somewhere in the church, Spencer and Guster are tearing up as O'Hara just sighs contently. Hank is beaming and Elizabeth's mother is crying, and a photographer is snapping a picture. Carlton sees none of this, his eyes only for her. There are "I Dos" and a kiss that nearly stops his heart, nearly stops the world from turning.

Sometime later, just after their first dance, Spencer's trying to make a toast but O'Hara steals his moment. "To Carlton and Elizabeth," she says, raising a glass, "and here's to thanking God they took my dating advice." Appreciative laughter on all sides, and he hugs her tightly. He'll never be sure how to pay this one back, but he hopes his thank you is enough for now.

Don't ask him how, but Gus catches the bouquet and Henry nearly knocks over the cake, but they all manage to get through the ceremony and reception with only a handful of crises, and only two psychic outbursts. The party lasts too long when all he wants to do is take her in his arms, and when they finally make it away from a cheering, congratulating crowd, she takes his hand in his.

There's a limo waiting and two tickets in his pocket. She's always wanted to see Italy, and though he's not much for traveling, he's already promised to take her anywhere she wants to go.

She rests up against him in the backseat of the limo, and says, "I love you."

"I love you, too," he replies, and he's never meant anything more in his life.

He's a lucky man indeed, and he knows with certainty that this isn't a happy ending.

Because it isn't an ending at all.

That's okay, though. A happy beginning suits them just fine.


End file.
